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FIVE YEARS 



IN 



SOUTH MISSISSIPPI 



^ 




BY 



DWELL, A. M. 



Student in the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary; formerly- 
resident and pastor in South Mississippi. 




CINCINNATI 
STANDARD PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1889 






#>• 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, by 

T. S. Powell, 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



lot cam^*^\ 



^O THE BRETHREN AND SISTERS AMONG WHOM MY EARLY 
V^ LIFE HAS BEEN SPENT, WHO HAVE BEEN THE WIT^ 
NESSES, SUPPORTERS, AND PARTNERS OF MY WORK, AS A 
TOKEN OF HIGH:REGARD AND SINCERE AFFECTION, 



PREFACE. 



Some five years ago, while yet engaged in plans and 
labors for the religious development of a section of 
country in South Mississippi, I conceived the purpose 
of writing an account of those labors. 

The motive which prompted me was not, I trust, sa 
much a sense of self-importance as of the importance of 
the work in that section. There was presented the pros- 
pect of a large territory of Christianized country, pre- 
vailingly Baptistic, yet comparatively undeveloped in 
benevolence, and resting in a rather low state of religious 
activity. The progress which I felt bound to urge was 
in the line of more frequent public services and increased 
activity in all the departments of church work. To de- 
velop the latent energies of the churches which I served, 
to marshal their forces for more general efforts, and in- 
spire them with greater zeal for the blessings of religion 
upon themselves, and strengthen their aspirations to ex- 
tend the saving influence to more destitute communities, 
was the wish which lay nearest my heart ; to this end my 
efforts were chiefly directed. Nor was I alone in the 
pursuance of this special object. It was evident that 
other brethren and pastors were diligently working in 
the same line. 



VI PREFACE. 

Having been identified with the work in that section 
for nearly five years, and feeling yet an almost undimin- 
ished interest in the progress of the cause there, I have 
been unwilling that the knowledge of those labors should 
be forgotten, or that the proof of my interest should 
pass away with my exit from the country. 

The form which I have chosen for my narrative is 
that of an autobiographical treatise, in which I have in- 
terwoven with personal experiences discussions of such 
questions as seem to me to deserve and to demand espe- 
cial attention. I am impressed that a progressive move- 
ment, especially in country churches, is called for by the 
times in which we live. And I have not considered it 
presumptuous to hope that the progress advocated in this 
treatise might be recognized as looking in the proper 
direction. The personal adventures which are herein 
recorded I have hoped might not detract from the more 
grave parts of the narrative, and at the same time might 
bring to light experiences Avhich are more or less com- 
mon to hundreds of youths in this country who are 
striving for higher attainments in culture and usefulness. 

The book has been written for the most part during 
my seminary course, in such times as I dared to take 
from my studies, with a part of two vacations. I am 
indebted to Dr. Wm. H. Whitsitt for a careful perusal 
of the main body of the manuscript, and for many valu- 
able suggestions, especially as to style. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Preface v., vi 

Introduction ix-xiv 

Chapter I. 
School at Brandon. — Decision to enter the Ministry 1-5 

Chapter II. 
Teaching at Dry Creek. — Course at Mississippi College. . . 6-14 

Chapter III. 
Leaving College. — Causes and Consequences 15-23 

Chapter IY. 

Call to Bethany Church, Lawrence Count}-.— Survey of 

the Community 24-28 

Chapter Y. 

Yisit to Bunker Hill, Marion County.— A Yiew of the Re- 
ligious Situation 29-40 

Chapter VI. 

Settling Down to Work.— The Pastoral Relation 41-46 

Chapter YII. 

The Question as to What Pays Considered. — The Churches' 

Responsibility to Christ 47-58 

Chapter YIII. 

Protracted Meetings : Suggestions as to their Desirability 

and Abuse 59-68 

Chapter IX. 

Aflaictions at Clinton 69-77 

vii 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

Chapter X. 

PAGE 

Kemoval.— Mt. Carmel, Salem, Williamsburg, Columbia, 

Poplar Springs 78-89 

Chapter XI. 
The Custom of Making Annual Calls.— School at Williams- 
burg. — The Pastor as a School teacher 90-101 

Chapter XII. 

Formation of Pearl Leaf Association. — The Question How 

to Maintain Church Prosperity Considered 102-107 

Chapter XIII. 

School-teaching at Mt. Carmel. — Church Sociables and 

Festivals 108-126 

Chapter XIV. 

Campaign on the Buoy. — Meeting of Associations. — School 

at Blountville : 127-142 

Chapter XV. 
The Last Year in South Mississippi. — Off to Louisville. . .143-155 

CONTENTS OF SUPPLEMENT. 

Introduction 157-158 

Letters 159-173 

Essays for Children.— 

" The Recollection'' 174-177 

''' The Hotel" 178-181 

'' The Instrument" 182-185 

'^ The Key " ^ 186-188 

A Song to the Cotton Plant 189-190 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER,* 



The day from which I reckon my existence is the 16th 
of May^ 1855. The place of my birth is a small farm 
situated on Steen^s Creek^ in the southwestern part of 
Rankin County, Mississippi. The farm, at that time the 
possession of my father, is now owned by Mr. H. Boat- 
ler. It has been known at different times as the Slater 
place and the Riley place. My most lovely mother (nee 
Malinda Cole) was the youngest child but one of Henry 
and Sallie (Cox) Cole. The father was of Swiss, the 
mother of Swedish descent. This union was formed in 
Spartanburg district. South Carolina, about the time of 
the Creek war under Jackson (1813-14), in which the 
male member had some experience. In 1821 the couple 
moved to Madison County, Alabama. The father hav- 
ing died in 1833, as the result of a fall from a horse, in 
1848 the family, consisting of the mother, three sons, and 
one daughter, moved to Rankin County, Mississippi. 
They were accompanied by three married daughters and 
their families, four having been left behind. My mother 
w^as reared with the advantages of a common school edu- 
cation. In early life she united with the Baptist Church 
at Dry Creek, of which Elder Cader Price was then pas- 

* The writing of this chapter was suggested by Dr. Whitsitt. ^ 



X INTRODUCTOKY CHAPTER. 

tor. In her twenty-second year she was married to 
Vincent Theopliilus Powell. 

I trace the genealogy of my father's family to Charles 
Powell, who came from Wales to North Carolina in the 
middle or latter part of the eighteenth century. He was 
of Welsh^ and his wife of English, extraction. Their 
two children were left orphans, when the son James was 
ten years old. He was born in 1767, and was reared to 
young manhood by Jack Ivens. He early went to South 
Carolina, where he was married to Lucrelia Magee, a lady 
of Scotch parentage. When nineteen years of age he, with 
his wife, was baptized by Elder Vincent Thorpe into the 
fellowship of Peedee Church, on the Little Peedee River- 
He began to preach in his twenty-first year, and was or- 
dained by the same church and pastor. Thence he moved 
to Georgia, and from there to Wayne County, Mississippi,, 
in 1810. After a residence of about six years each in that 
and Green County, he finally settled in Simpson. He 
was a man of liberal education, and from what I have 
been able to learn of his work, of considerable strength, 
and quite extensive labors in the ministry. He was the 
founder of several churches, and filled out an unusually 
long life in the pastorate. Among his colleagues in the 
ministry were Jno. P. Martin, Norvel Robertson, Sr.^ 
James Murray^ Dr. Collins, Wm. Chambers, and others 
whose names I have not at hand. The pioneer preachers 
of South Mississippi did their work well. His wife was 
a noble, pious, Christian woman. To them were born 
twelve children, all of whom but one attained to matur- 



INTRODUCTOEY CHAPTER. XI 

ity. The family, as regards the things of this world, 
were in good circumstances. In 1841 his wife died. He 
afterwards married Mary Barnett, and in his old age be- 
came the father of two sons. He died November 17th, 
1851. He reposes with his first wife in the cemetery of 
Strong River Church.* 

It will be seen from the above that I claim kin with 
the Welsh, Swiss, Swedes, Scotch, and perhaps some 
other nationalities of less renown. There might be ex- 
pected from the mingling of such blood a person of a 
rare combination of qualities. The defect in this respect 
most obvious to myself is the want of a drop of Irish 
blood to give me a grain of wit. It will appear also 
how I came to bear the name of Theophilus; though my 
other given name has been a puzzle to many, as it was 
not long since to a couple of young ladies whom I un- 
wittingly set to guessing what the S in my name stood for. 
They guessed almost everything in the range of English 
synonyms, either sweet or sour, to my utter disgust, but 
never staggered upon the right word. It will be plain 
enough, however, when it is borne in mind that it was 
about the close of the brilliant career of Jehu L. Shuck, 
the first missionary of the Southern Board to China, that 
I made my appearance on the western hemisphere. It 
is evident that both my father and myself were named 
for a Baptist preacher, and we both acknowledged the 
obligation. I can not, however, in another respect claim 

"^lam indebted for most of the information concerning my grandfather's 
family to the only surviving daughter, Mrs. Hephzia Bishop, of Westville* 
Miss. 



Xll INTRODUCTORY CHAPTKR. 

the same fidelity; for only a short time before his death 
my father expressed the belief that after the order of 
David and Solomon in building the Temple I would 
carry out the earnest desire of his heart when a young 
man, to go as a missionary to China, which circum- 
stances prevented him from realizing; yet who knows 
but that, if I should be granted a successful life, I 
may not fulfill this obligation also ? 

My father, the ninth child of James and Lucretia 
Powell, was born November 15th, 1820. He received 
an ordinary education from the country schools, which 
was supplemented by some experience in teaching. In 
1838, while afflicted with dyspepsia, and after a long 
struggle with gloom and skepticism, he professed 
conversion and was baptized by his father. In ^41 
the year of his mother^s death, he was ordained 
to the ministry. He did not, however, devote himself 
exclusively to his calling, but, as was not uncom- 
mon in that section among preachers of the last gen- 
eration, he strove to make a living and even to ac- 
quire property by the work of his hands. He was first 
married (1844) to Mihuldah Cora Sutton, whom, with 
three children, the fruits of this union, he survived. He 
moved to Rankin County in 1847. On the twelfth day 
of April, 1853, he was married the second time, as stated 
above. Of the ten children of this family, six at present 
remain. The second of all is the writer of this sketch. In 
1856 my father moved to Western Texas. He was the 
first to preach the gospel in Live Oak County of that State. 



INTRODXJCTOKY CHAPTEE. Xlll 

The Texans came to hear him clad in their prairie 
dress and their coat of arms. As he was not pleased 
with this frontier life^ he returned the next year to Ran- 
kin County, Miss., where he lived continuously till the 
winter of ^69. The family were in comfortable circum- 
stances up to the time of the war. My father supported 
the cause of secession. His two older sons (Warren and 
Baron) volunteered at the ages respectively of sixteen 
and fourteen, and were three years in the Confederate 
service. After the close of the war he manifested almost 
no interest in politics. The five years from ^70 to '75 
were spent in the Mississippi swamp, Leflore County. 
While sojourning here he preached regularly, and was 
instrumental in constituting two or three churches, which 
were composed for the most part of renters of the then 
floating population. The churches went to pieces after 
his return to the "hills.'' During his life he was pastor 
of various churches in Rankin and Simpson Counties. 
He delighted also to preach in communities which were 
destitute. Under him the little church of Cana in South 
Rankin was constituted ; and being then the proprietor 
of a steam sawmill, he donated most of the material for 
building the house. He was a friend to missions and to 
education. Self-reliance, hard work, benevolence, and 
an abiding sense of humility were some of the traits 
w^hich marked his character. His death occurred on the 
19th of April, 1881. It would be inexcusable affectation 
to propose any eulogy on so unpretending a life. Im- 
partial opinion, however, w^ill not deny this simple trib- 



XIV INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 

ute. There were few men in his station who could 
claim a greater number of personal friends^ and that, I 
presume, because he was an honest, faithful, sympathetic 
and conscientious man. His death was followed by that 
of my mother, on November 7th, 1882. One of the 
most comforting recollections connected with the last year 
of her life is that she was a member of a mission society, 
and contributed regularly to its support. 

Appreciative offspring, it may be expected, will eager- 
ly seize and warmly cherish any pleasing memento of the 
life and deeds of departed parents. 

South Mississippi is the home of my people. May it 
ever be a goodly land, religious, prosperous, and happy. 

T. S. Powell. 



FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 



CHAPTER I. 

School at Brandon. — Decision to enter the Ministry. 

In the winter of ^76 I left the circle of that family 
with which are connected the associations most lovely 
and sacred of this life. The father, already stooping 
under the burden of years and w^orn with manly toil, 
was looking toward the grave. The mother, beautiful 
and gay in youth, was now fading and careworn, yet 
cherishing an ever growing fondness for the dear ones 
that were hers. A group of trustful children gathered 
around them from the prattling baby boy to the bustling 
young man of eighteen, and the mild contemplative 
daughter just stepping upon the highw^ay of woman- 
hood. Sweet home ! I did not then know what is 
orphanage ; nor what are the thoughts of one cast alone 
upon the world. I envy the choice of two older 
brothers who did not leave the parental roof till they 
were near thirty. Had I a father and mother now, it 
seems to me I should desire to dwell with them forever. 
The occasion of my leaving home was the prospect 
of higher education. I had an uncle, Henry S. Cole, 

living near Brandon, who proposed to board me that I 

1 



2 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH xMISSISSIPPI. 

might attend the Brandon school, and I, in turn, should 
give my vacant hours in service about the place. He 
was then engaged in the practice of law, and was a 
cripple, havin^r lost a limb in the battle of Shiloh. He 
afterwards proved a most true and disinterested friend. 
The offer, I need not say, was accepted. I had long 
been conscious of a thirst for knowledge, and now was 
presented an opportunity for gratifying it. 

Brandon was one of the oldest towns in the State. It 
made no small pretentions to refinement and to leader- 
ship in politics and the bar. Tiie town was well sup- 
plied with churches, and enjoyed the advantages of a 
fine female school. The male school did not exist under 
so favorable auspices. The present teacher was Eld. J. 
M. Lewis, formerly of Kentucky. He was a Baptist 
Minister of no mean reputation as a pulpit orator. 

My domestic surroundings were most pleasant. It 
was the golden period of the family with which I lived, 
and I shared in no small degree the social spirit which 
pervaded the happy household. One consideration alone 
tended to mar my pleasure — the drudgery which was 
connected with my situation. To cultivate the garden 
and orchard, to tend the stock, and perform generally 
the duties of an outdoor attendant was an unjDleasant 
though not unprofitable drill ; for the path of ascent is 
by weary steps. There seems to be no first class passage 
up the hill of higher usefulness. 

I entered school to work. My recess at noon was 
just long enough to swallow my lunch; I had not then 
considered the importance of digestion. The only whole 
night^s work, I remember ever to have done was in this 
year. A mischievous mule, in the spring, got to break- 
ing into the oat field. It was my duty to mend the 



SCHOOL AT BEAMDON. 3 

fence, but I had no notion of stopping school to attend 
to it. So I resolved to mend the fence at night. After 
the family retired I jumped out of my room at the win- 
dow to escape notice ; and, until the gray dawn appeared, 
carri d rails a quarter of a mile and made fence. Health 
was not then taken into account. 

The session closed. Mr. Emmet Thomas, a recent 
graduate of Mississippi College, opened a summer school 
c\t Brandon, which 1 attended, and under him I commenced 
reading JEsop's Fables in Latin. In the fall Dr. Lewis 
resumed his school which continued until midwinter, 
when he received a call from Frankfort, Ky. This took 
him from us. Under him I began the long continued 
studies of Greek, Latin and Rhetoric. Soon a new 

teacher was employed. Prof. . He appeared to be 

a stranger. I w^as informed that he w-as a finished 
scholar, and very severe on the boys, w^hich, it was 
thought, was what the boys of Brandon needed. On 
entering the schoolroom I found this gentleman in the 
chair, looking very grand and dignified. 

He was surrounded by a crowd of noble boys. It was 
evident that Brandon was doing its best for him. Not 
a day passed but a whipping came to a half dozen or 
more. He had been advised to lay it on, and not the 
largest escaped, if he was the least unruly. But it soon 
became evident that his forte w^as in the use or rather 
the abuse of the hickory. He was a perfect imposture, 
the most presumptuous hypocrite I ever had any thing 
to do with. AVhen I was fully convinced of his hypo- 
crisy, I asked him one day to exchide the boys from the 
schoolroom, for a private interview. When we wer^ 
alone, I asked, *^You say you are a graduate from a 
college ?^^ -He said, ^^ Ye-es.^^ '^ Did you not use keys 



4 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

and translations to help you threugli?^^ *^ Well^ye-es/' 
'' Well I have discovered^ Professor^ that you do n^t seem 
to understand Latin^ Greek and Mathematics/^ He 
turned white and trembling, said^ '' Please do n^t expose 
me; I have a wife and a little child/^ I assured him I 
would not^ further than I was bound to ; for up to this 
time I had sustained him in points of discipline when I 
had been referred to. In a few days the Professor dis- 
appeared from town. 

This was the last attempt at a school in Brandon for 
some time. I now secured a room in the court house, and 
with another young man, Mr. Davis Berry for a room- 
mate, I pursued my studies. Mr. Buchanan, an excel- 
lent scholar and member of the Brandon Bar, and a very 
pleasant gentleman, rendered me valuable assistance in 
Latin and Greek. 

The time at length had fully arrived ^vhen an important 
decision must be made. The question, '' What shall be 
my pursuit in life f^ was demanding an answer. Of late 
it had been foremost in my mind. I had early felt that 
I should preach, and such impressions had followed me, 
but they did not become serious until I left home ; since 
then they had been growing upon my attention. It was 
a question not to be decided by choice, but by conviction. 
I believed fully in a divine call to the ministry, and had 
some appreciation of the responsibilities and trials of a 
minister's life. I regarded it as the highest of callings, 
and at times when I contemplated it was animated with 
lofty feelings. At other times I was constrained to put 
aside all such thoughts. A feeling of unworthiness 
came upon me. From considerations of worldly com- 
fort and pleasure I should have chosen some other line 
of life, if I had felt free to do so ; indeed, I had some 



CALL TO THE MINISTKY. 5 

thoughts of stuclying law, but this seemed a dry pasture. 
It appeared that I had a theological bent of niind^ for I 
delighted in theological study, nor was I unwilling to 
enter the ministry if I could be sure it was my duty. 
This was the issue on which I knew the matter must be 
decided. I felt sure that God bad appointed me to 
this work. His grace Avas sufficient for me; I sought 
light from above, and light came, but not in any miracu- 
lous or phenomenal way. The fleece of Gideon did not 
avail me, nor was I favored with any vision or verbal 
communication. Gradually, almost imperceptibly my 
doubts disappeared. This way lay open before me, and 
all other ways were closed. I had a consciousness of 
duty which gave me entire satisfaction. I felt, too, that 
it was the only pursuit in which I could be meaSureably 
useful, successful, or happy. 



CHAPTER II. 

Teaching at Dry Creek. — Course at Mississippi College. 

The following summer (1877) I taught school at Dry 
Creek Churchy a place hallowed by associations of early 
school days, and by my first religious impressions. 
Most of those who were, during my childhood, leaders 
in the church services ha^l now passed away, but many 
of my schoolmates remained, and some of them were 
my pupils. One of these I can not pass without special 
mention, Miss Venie Mclntyre, w^ho, though reared 
an orphan, having lost both father and mother in early 
hildhood, with unsurpassed zeal and perseverance, fol- 
lowed also by her sister, made her way to the highest at- 
tainments in one of the first Christian colleges in the 
State. There has never come under my notice a more 
brilliant youthful mind, or a more perfect example ol 
noble, aspiring womanhood. 

I boarded with a good old deacon, Lewis Howell, 
who has since passed to liis reward. Here, in the early 
fall, I was licensed to preach. I now began to arrange 
to go to Clinton. The means to defray expenses were 
wanting. All this fall, while teaching, I studied to in- 
vent something which would make me a little fortune. 
My hostess sometimes complained that, about midnight, 
she observed the lamp burning brightly in my room 
while I was lying on the floor fast asleep. I did not 
tell her that I was struggling to conceive a machine 
which would bring me some money. But much as I 



ENTERING COLLEGE. 7 

desired to make a raise this way, I was bound to ac- 
knowledge tliat my inventive powders would not work. 
The only alternative was to borrow money. That favor 
I obtained from Mrs. Martha Mclntyre, through my 
ancle^ who became security, I giving an insurance on 
life.* 

[ entered college about the 1st of January, 1878. 
This was like ascending an elevated plateau, from which 
can be obtained a better view of the surrounding coun- 
try. It marked an era in my life. The door to the 
world's museum of science and literature was open; I 
might walk in and avail myself of the experience and 
fellow^ship of the world's great spirits. I began to have 
thoughts of a life more elevated and enlarged ; more 
and more clearly it appeared that the worthiest men had 
been those who had labored both to improve their ad- 
vantages and to employ their talents most unselfislily to 
benefit the race. The force of example is strong, and 
I came more and more under an influence w^hich drew 
me on to make the most of life and to be of the greatest 
possible benefit to my fellow-men, who might be less 
favored than myself. 

The faculty, during my course at Mississippi College, 
consisted of W. S. Web, President and Professor of 
Mental and Moral Science ; H. C. Timberlake, Profes- 
sor of Latin and Greek (Geo. Wharton afterwards filled 
this chair) ; B. H. Whitfield, Professor of Natural Sci- 
ences; Mr. T. Martin, Professor of Mathematics (afrer- 
wards P. H. Eager). The course has since been en- 
larged, other professorships added and various changes 



"I am especially indebted to Mr. A. B. Stubblefield for financial assist- 
ance, to the amount of $100, rendered me during one session at college; also 
to the strong River Association, for the same amount. 



8 



FIVE YEARS IN .SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 



have occurred in the faculty. Prof. Timberlake has 
been transferred, as we believe, to heaven^s school of 
the redeemed. He was a kind-hearted and genial gentle- 
man, as well as a good scholar and instructor. Dr. B. 
H. Whitfield, also, has left us, than whom I have 
not known a more noble, zealous. Christian man and 
teacher. 




C. H. TIMBERLAKE. 



It is well nigh impossible to estimate the benefits to a 
growing, expanding mind, of a college course well 
planned and well studied. It lays a foundation for the 
future building of character, broad and solid, which can 
scarcely be obtained otherwise, even by the most favor- 
able drill of circumstances. The design of such a 
cour-e is not to immediately prepare one for some par- 
ticular business, nor primarily to store the mind wdth 



COURSE AT COLLEGE. 



9 



useful knowledge; but more important than either of 
these^ it is intended to cultivate all the mental and 
moral powers^ by training the mind to develop strength^ 
to give one mastery of himself, so that he can bring all 
his powers to bear upon any undertaking. The fact 
that some men have attained to wonderful success with- 
out such advantages^ while it shows that skill and appli- 




B. H. WHITFIELD. 



cation to business is indispensable^ proves nothing 
against education ; and, on the other hand, that some 
men of finished education make first-class failures, 
argues nothing against education ; it rather proves the 
necessity of business tact, industry, and diligence to all 
men, whetlier educated or uneducated. Besides, there 
are other benefits connecred with higher education. It 
increases one^s intelligence as it widens his range of 



10 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

knowledge. It prepares him to wield a greater influence, 
and must be a source of pleasure to himself as well as 
to all witli whom he is associated. Men toil to polish 
the gems that are found in the earth, and we admire the 
work of their hands. Should not every youth labor to 
cultivate and polish himself? Many a young man who 
takes pride in fine live-stock gives absolutely no atten- 
tion to self-culture. Many a young lady, who will 
spend much of her time dreaming about her beauty of 
face and form, thinks nothing of the importance of cul- 
tivating her inner self. 

How far short of a proper appreciation of higher 
education do those young men fall, who talk thus: 
^^ Well, I don't expect to be anything but a farmer. I 
must work for my living. I don't think much educa- 
tion is necessary for one who is going to do manual 
work." This would be tr^e if you were an earth worm ; 
but you are not an earth w^orm. God has given you 
talents, capable of great improvement, and shall you 
not make the most of them ? A certain eminent man* 
has said that there is nothing worth striving for but 
character. This means, if you have tlie proper charac- 
ter everything else will come ; and that is true in what- 
ever occupation you may engage. 

These remarks are not designed to discourage young 
persons who can not enjoy collegiate advantages. Many 
a man has educated himself during leisure hours, by 
assistance of such private instruction as he could obtain, 
or even with his books alone. Much less would I dis- 
parage those who have been so unfortunate as to have 
no early opportunities. But there are so many advan- 



'• Tr. Francis Wayland. 



COURSE AT COLLEGE. 11 

tages in attending a well equipped institution of learning 
that no young man or young lady who can possibly en- 
joy them can afford to miss them. When I have put 
the question to myself, '' Why should others have the 
advantage of me?'^ I have not been able to answer it 
satisfactorily. 

Clinton was to me the Grove of Academus, with its 
pleasant walks and private meditations. At the same 
time it was a school of the prophets. I enjoyed the in- 
fluence of kind and generous professors, and associated 
with many noi)le young men. The literary society of 
which I was a member; the Crino Theological Society, 
meeting on Saturday ; every Saturday night the Young 
Men^s Prayer Meeting, in which Dr. Whitfield was a 
prominent and permanent figure, and the missionary 
meeting once a month, w^ere means of social and relig- 
ious culture. One circumstance alone contributed to 
my humiliation and embarrassment. It kept me from 
intercourse with society, and frequently from religious 
service. Ever since our first parents committed that 
woeful blunder, human nature has demanded a garb in 
which to clothe herself W'hen she appears before the pub- 
lic eye, and the Adam of the nineteenth century has 
made such an advance on the simple taste of his primo- 
genitor, that the fig leaf expedient would not be coun- 
tenanced for a moment among respectable people. It 
makes comparatively little difference as to a man^s dress, 
provided he has plenty of money in his pocket. He 
can then rest easy ; but w^hen he has neither money nor 
clothes, the chagrin is almost intolerable. This fact will 
help to explain the anomaly frequently remarked on, 
that tenants not uncommonly dress better than their 
landlords. It is sincerely hoped that no other youth 



12 FIVE YEARS IX SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

may ever be hampered by this fortune; but if any 
should, I trust he will be comforted by a brother's ex- 
perience. 

Central Female Institute contributed much of inter- 
est to the town of Clinton, and especially to the students 
of the male college. I studied German here one year 
under its German Professor of Music. So favorable an 
impression did the faculty and students of this institu- 
tion make on my mind, that I shall be bound always to 
look upon its alumnae as superior. 

I should not wish to be considered in the least senti- 
mental ; yet it would, perhaps, be unjust not to confess 
that I did occasionally watch from a distance the light 
in a certain window and pray to the skies that such and 
such a thing might be. 

My low-winged muse takes her first flight from the 
top of 

The Salus Tree.- 

Mt. Salus grows a tree, 

Its rising form you see. 

I '11 tell to you its story, 

And unfold its future glory. 

A shrub it was of culture, 

Nurtured of gentlest virtue, 

Of scions named the first, 

By all in wisdom versed. 

The eommon choice proclaimed, 

Its worth abroad was famed. 

Not for itself^alone 

This rarest plant was grown ; 

The time had fully come. 

Its fruit life must be begun. 

From the bed was it transplanted. 



"'- Mt. Salus is the original rame of the hill on which Mississippi College 
stands. 



THE SALUS TREE. 13 

Where for air it long had panted, 

For the tempest never blew 

lu the nursery where it grew. 

To the soil it was delivered 

By hands that now are withered. 

Watered, too, long ago, 

From founts since ceased to flow. 

By drouth and storm assaulted, 

Long it stood and faltered. 

So stubborn was every foe, 

Its triumph must be slow. 

At length it gained a foothold 

Dowm in the bed clay mold. 

And now in joy it brings 

From earth's deep hidden springs, 

And above it shoots its branches 

Far out where the sunbeam dances. 

They bend and play in the zephyrs ; 

And laugh, as they throw sweet kisses 

Up to skies of blue, 

Whence all its praise is due. 

A spirit lifts the curtain. 

The vision I trow is certain : 

I see far down the ages 

At oft recurring stages. 

As the spring life comes and goes 

The tree still blooms and grows ; 

Under its spreading boughs. 

Where echo silent vows, 

As the seasons hie away, 

The children meet for play. 

Within its ample ample bowsers 

They wreathe sweet vernal flowers ; 

In its darkened shadow they stroll 

And whisper what ne'er was told ; 

On its bowing limbs they swing, 

They sport and shout and sing ; 

And, lest my lay be long, 

This is their simple song : 



14 FIVE YEARS IN kSOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

'^ Heighho, heighbo, the Salus tree! 
In whose rejoicing sliade we play ; 
Our fathers, alas ! have passed away, 
But this result of their toils we see. 

'*A11 hail ! We greet you, lovely tree, 
Your praise we '11 ever sing 
For the grace and joy you bring ; 
Earnest of good forever be. 

'^Hurrah ! let live the grand old tree 
Whose glory crowns our liill sublime. 
Its fruit it lends to every clime, 
And a fragrance pours from hill to sea." 



CHAPTER III. 

Leaving College. — Causes and Consequences. 

My stay at Clinton was ended. I had been there 
three sessions. Apprehension of coming responsibilities 
had caused me to rush through more rapidly than was to 
my advantage. My father^s health had^ for some time, 
been failing, and the painful fact could not be ignored 
that the end was drawing near. In the month of Janu- 
ary, ^81, I received, one morning, a note, written in the 
well-known hand after which I had made my first let- 
ters, telling me that either I or my brother, younger 
than myself, must come home. 

I reached Brandon about two o^clock that night. It 
was fifteen miles home, and a deep snow had fallen. It 
was quite a tramp, but the first rays of the morning sun 
that saluted my eyes bathed also in golden light the spot 
rendered sacred by the trials and toils of devoted parents. 
A few months of anxiety i3assed away in ceaseless watch- 
ings and eager hope, but spring brought no relief. The 
sun has now set behind the western mountains, the 
shades of evening grow longer and deeper with darkness. 
The angel of death has entered and perched on the 
couch of the first born. He receives the summons, and 
dies. 

Thus passed from the stage of action the life after 
which my own is modeled. My father was a Baptist 
minister, not of distinction. He was known and felt in 
a comparatively narrow sphere, yet none the less is he 

15 



16 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

appreciated by those who shall bear the impress of his 
teaching through this life and in the world to come. 
Should I ever achieve anything worthy, it will be due 
to the development of those principles which I received 
through him, my first and most successful instructor. 

My mother was now a widow, her children orphans ; 
upon me, * as the oldest, fell the responsibility of caring 
for the family. I did not shrink from the duty. Possibly 
I did not fully appreciate the weight of the responsibil- 
ity. Any way, I received it rather with eagerness; for I 
felt that in caring for mother, brothers and sisters, I 
was not only serving those who were most dear to me, 
but honoring him whom it was my ambition to honor. 
If it can not be said that my course was wise, there 
remains to me this consolation — I was filial and de- 
voted. 

Four churches, Cato, Gum-Springs, Zion-Hill and 
Cana, were left destitute by my father's death. The 
three latter immediately called me to be their supply. I 
received ordination from Dry Creek Church, the latter 
part of this spring ('81), and entered upon the pleasant 
work of the pastorate in a community which, though not 
wealthy, w^as composed of good, honest and appreciative 
people ; my duties, however, were not limited to this 
sphere. The little rented farm looked to me for man- 
agement. I undertook also a neighborhood school. 
Added to this was the pursuit of my college studies. 
The result w^as, I made nearly a failure in a crop, and did 
not give entire satisfaction in the school-room, but stood 
my final examinations, and my churches would have 
called me for the next year. Religiouslv", it was a pleas- 



* The reference an page 1 to older brothers is to half-brothers. 



A SHORT PASTORATE. 17 

ant year ; my churches experienced some I'evival, and 
for aught I know, I might have remained here in a 
quiet country pastorate. I had, already, while at Clin- 
ton, dreamed of a home there. 

That place, to my mind, represented beauty, culture, 
virtue and religion. I had no more pleasing thought 
than that my parents should live at Clinton; and now, 
that it had devolved on me to devise plans for the wel- 
fare of the family, my thoughts of a home for my mother 
at Clinton grew and matured. I hoped that she w^ould 
enjoy the society of such a place, and that her children 
would be reared under influences the most favorable. 
When I made the suggestion to her she was at first 
elated ; but afterwards she became doubtful, and said 
she reckoned she must give up the idea of going to Clin- 
ton. But I, confident in my plans and purposes, assured 
her that all difficulties would be removed. She replied 
that she would say nothing more. I succeeded in raising 
funds, purchased a valuable lot, one mile from Clinton, 
and by the first of March had a house so nearly com- 
pleted that it might be occupied. I found generous 
friends * who assisted me far beyond w^hat might have 
been expected. 

As my dwelling neared completion, I began to look 
about for a location. I desired a pastorate and a school, 
if necessary, from which I might occasionally visit the 
family, and by which I should be enabled, with my 
brother's assistance, to sustain them until they were se- 
curely settled. I was referred by the Lumbly brothers 
to Lake Village, in Arkansas. The Baptist Church 
there was without a pastor. After some correspondence 



-David Rankin, of Rankin County, and Judge E. W. Cabaniss, of Clinton. 



18 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

with the deacon I concluded to visit the place. It was 
in the time of the overflow of ^82. The Mississippi was 
a living sea from hills to hills. A day and night's ride 
from Vicksburgh brought me to the landing, seven miles 
from the village. At this landing my curiosity was grati- 
fied at seeing some Chinamen, the first I had ever met. 
I employed a negro boy to take me farther in a skilBF, 
and a most delightful ride we had. I reached the little 
city on the lake in the afternoon, with only twenty-five 
cents in my pocket. I was compelled to pay the oars- 
man partly with a new linen collar. I remained a few 
days, making the house of Bro. Jno. G. Simms my 
home ; preached on Sunday to a thin audience, visited a 
few families, and prepared to return. I had determined 
to work my way back, and say nothing to the brethren. 
But when I left, Bro. Simms handed me five dollars, and 
the brother who carried me to the landing did the same. 
My visit was fruitless ; this was the last I heard of Lake 
Village. 

Next, through his advertisement for a teacher and 
preacher, I came into correspondence with Bro. Van 
Norman, of Amite County, and at his suggestion I vis- 
ited Galilee Church in his community. On arriving, 
unacquainted, at Summit, which was the nearest point 
on the railroad, I inquired for the Baptist minister, and 
was directed to the house ot Elder Schofield. I had 
never met him, but knew something of him from reputa- 
tion. I reached his house before breakfast. I found 
him a great talker and a ready wit. He made me feel 
that he was really glad to see me. After breakfast he 
accompanied me to the livery stable. I shall not soon 

forget the introduction : " Mr. , this is Bro. 

Powell, a Baptist Minister, who wants a horse for three 



LAKE VILLAGE A^D GALILEE. 19 

(lays, and I know from experience that Baptist preachers 
do n^t liave too much money/^ All right ; a horse se- 
cured, I was soon on the road for a journey of forty miles. 
It was late in the winter, and the streams were swollen 
by rains. In crossing one of these my horse blundered, 
and I somehow got off into the water. About twelve 
o'clock I stopped at a house for dinner. AVhile waiting 
I pulled off my shoes, a right new, seven-dollar pair, 
and laying them carelessly too near the fire, they were 
parched, and thus my new shoes were ruined. 

I had been directed by Eld. Schofield to call on W. 
Z. Lea, who lived near Liberty, and whom he described 
as the ^^ bell-wether of all the Baptists '^ in that section. 
About sundown I rode up to Br(\ Lea's place, walked 
into the house and introduced myself as Powell. I 
was taken immediately for a kinsman, for Mrs. Lea was a 
Powell. I found them to be kinsfolk indeed, whether 
according to the flesh or not. 

The country had every appearance of having once 
been w^ealthy. I was struck with the sight of many fine 
mansions going to ruin ; many fences and buildings 
were dilapidated, but the soil had the right color for fer- 
tility. On passing through Liberty I noticed the only 
monument v/hich I have ever seen raised to the memory 
of Confederate dead. 

After spending a night very pleasantly with Bro. Van 
Norman, I went with him to the church. It was a 
week day. The citizens had met to elect a teacher. My 
purpose was to get a school and a church. I found a 
gentleman on the ground of high repute as a teacher. 
To him they tendered the school, though I learned after- 
w^ards that he did not take it. This trip also was a fail- 
ure ; yet I look back on my visit to Amite, as well as 



20 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

that to Lake Village, with pleasure ; 1 look forward also 
to the time when we shall meet on the other shore, when 
this world^s work shall have been done, and we shall 
rest together in the paternal home. 

Not long after this I chanced one day to step into the 
room of Elder R. A. Cooper, then a student of Missis- 
sippi College. He handed me a letter from W. M. Rob- 
ertson, of Lawrence County. The letter conveyed the 
intelligence that Bethany Church was without a pastor, 
and sought reference to some one who might entertain a 
call. I was soon in correspondence with the church. 
In response to a request to visit them, I procured a pony 
in Clinton, and set out on horseback, a journey of sev- 
enty miles. On my way, I passed the residence of Rev. 
R. W. Hall, late pastor of Bethany Church, which he 
had been compelled to resign on account of ill healthy 
He spoke well of the church and of the community. 
The second night I stopped with my cousin, J. I. 
Bishop, at Westville, twenty-two miles from Bethany. 
In the*morning I secured a fresh horse through the kind- 
ness of Mr. Catchings, a young lawyer of the place, and 
about two o'clock I rode up to Bethany. 
^: The church was in conference. I recognized only 
two persons. Misses Sallie and Lou Robertson. I had 
met them at Clinton. I took a seat at the end of the 
first bench by an elderly, tall brother, whom I afterwards 
knew as John Atwood. I w^hispered my name to the tall 
brother, who called out, '^ Brethren, Bro. Powell is here, 
shall we invite him up into the stand ? ^^ The voice of 
Deacon Frank Polk answered, ^' Certainly ; go up into 
the stand, Bro. Powell. ^^ I went up and did my best, 
on the text, ^^ By grace are ye saved through faith, and 
that not of yourselves : it is the gift of God. ^' 



A VISIT TO BETHANY. 21 

After services and a cordial greeting of welcome fi*om 
the brethren, strangers to me, but of kindred spirit, the 
clerk, Bro. G. W. Mikell, claimed me as his guest. On 
the way to his residence, five miles distant, I learned of 
the illne.'^s of J. J. Mikell, an elder brother. After din- 
ner we went to the house of the sick, but failed to get 
there in time to make his acquaintance. As we walked 
into the gallery he breathed his last; and the family 
mourned the irreparable loss of a husband and father. 
Among the attendants on this occasion, saddest, perhaps, 
in the memory of that household, was Bro. W. M. AVal- 
ler and his wife. My distinct recognition of them dates 
from this occasion. I ever afterwards counted them 
among my most honored and faithful friends. 

I spent the night with the clerk and the family at his 
house. Some pleasant attachments were formed, which 
have only been strengthened by the lapse of time. 

In the morning several brethren met at the house of 
my host to make a coffin for the deceased. These made 
up one hundred dollars of the salary, and sent word that 
they would abide by whatever the church would do. 
The church house was well filled. The subject was 
^^ The Law of Liberty,'^ James i. 25. x4fter I had fin- 
ished preaching the church made a formal call. The 
conditions on which we agreed was one half of my time 
and a salary of four hundred dollars. Nearly the whole 
amount was raised by subscription on that day, so that I 
felt justified in making an appointment for two weeks 
from that time. My grandfather, years before, had 
preached in this very section, and some of the members 
of the church had distinct recollections of him. This 
gave me a recommendation which I could not otherwise 
have had. 



22 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

I went home from church with the Misses Robertson. 
It was six miles to where they lived, A modest build- 
ing was the house^ in a retired spot, the yard shaded by 
ancient oaks. The feelino; of a pleasant country home 
consecrated by many sacred associations^ came over me. 
On the gallery I met an elderly lady with full face, 
cheerful countenance and kindly and generous mien. I 
take pleasure in introducing her to my readers as Sister 
Robertson. She said she was glad to welcome me to her 
humble home. Near her stood a slender form, slightly 
bent with rheumatism, but with pleasing countenance, 
and kind though tremulous voice. This was the only 
surviving son, ^' Billy. ^^ By his side, and supporting 
him was his modest, polite and devoted wife. We at- 
dinner and engaged for a short time in pleasant convere 
sation. Sister Robertson told me of my grandfather, with 
whose memory she was familiar, and of some interesting 
events of the old times. But we had not long to tarry in 
this agreeable converse. Three o'clock was the time ap- 
pointed f )r the burial service. So we resorted to the Mikell 
Cemetery, a mile distant. On a high hill, overlook- 
ing what is known as the Hooker Hollow, was gathered 
a company of people to see laid away in its last resting 
place, the body of the lamented friend and brother. The 
reading of a psalm, a few practical remarks on death, the 
certainty of its coining to all, its consequences to the 
wicked and the righteous; the lowering of the body in 
the tomb and covering with its mother earth, a song, a 
prayer, and the crowd dispersed. 

I spent the night with Sister Robertson, and in the 
morning turned my face homeward. I had arranged to 
move my mother on my return to Clinton. About ten 
days later I took leave of the family in their new home, 



REMOVAL TO CLI^^TON. 23 

leaving my brother, James Elroy, to keep them company 
while he continued his studies. My dreams were par- 
tially realized — my mother was at home in Clinton, not 
securely, but hopefully situated. Oh ! fortune, will you 
smile on me ? 



CHAPTER ly. 

A long walk, and a church at^the end of it. 

Friday evening before the first Sunday in April found 
me at Wesson, on the Illinois Central Railroad, forty 
miles from Bethany, without conveyance and without 
money. There was no alternative, I must walk. So I 
took my foot in my hand and began to measure the dis- 
tance by the long red, pine hills which lay between me 
and Pearl river nineteen miles off. I had not, however, 
proceeded over three miles when I overtook a teamster 
with his yokes of thirsty oxen, and a wagon heavily laden 
with fertilizers evidently bound for the interior. Who 
should it be but Charley Wiley, an old schoolmate? It 
was an unexpected, but agreeable meeting. I had not 
seen him since he left Clinton, two are three years before 
and did not know that he lived in this section. He was 
glad that I expected to locate near where he lived and I 
was glad he lived there. He prevailed on me to go by 
and stop with him at his father's over night. I enjoyed 
the unrestrained hospitality of that rural home and in 
the morning was much refreshed. But it was still more 
than twenty miles to Bethany. My hope was to reach 
my friend Charley's place, which was seven miles from 
the church, and securing a horse there make it to the 
church in time. I got lost, however, went several miles 
out of the way, and when I came in sight of the church 
it was two o'clock and the crowd were dispersing. My 
appointment the next day was filled, the preliminaries 

24 



BETHANY CHURCH. 



25 



were settled^ and I entered upon the responsible duties 
of pastor of that church which must ever be associated 
with the name of Norvel Robertson, Jr., one of the 
Mississippi's great preachers. * 

Bethany Church is situated in the densely populated 
section on the eastern border of Lawrence County, nearly 




NORVEL ROBERTSON, JR. 



forty miles from a railroad, east or west, and fourteen 
miles from Pearl River. 

The church house stands in a beautiful grove of gum 
trees on the Western bank of Whitesand Creek, which 
a few miles below unites with Little Whitesand and 
flows on to the river. The membership at the time of 
my entrance on the p'storate extended from Buoy 



'■'-Author of the popular theological treatitse known as " The Church 
Members Hand-book of theolosrv.'' 



26 FIVK YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

on the east to near Silver Creek on the west, a dis- 
tance of more than fifteen miles ; and nearly the 
same distance up and down Whitesand. The people 
were thickly settled, on the latter creek especially, 
approaching the likeness of a continuous village. 
I have often remarked that it was the most popu- 
lous country community of my knowledge in south 
Mississippi. The people w^ere not wealthy, but 
there were many independent farmers. The soil is fer- 
tile and well cultivated ; cotton, corn, oats, rice, cane, 
potatoes, garden vegetables and fruits were grown. It 
is a common opinion among farmers that too much atten- 
tion is given to the cultivation of cotton to the neglect 
of products for home consumption. This is perhaps the 
reason why at some seasons of the year the country 
seems almost impoverished. The country is dotted over 
here and there with retail stores which do a credit busi- 
ness. This business however has not been very success- 
ful, owing to the large sales easily made, w^hich are fol- 
lowed by insufficient collections. Much injury has been 
sustained in consequence of the agricultural lien law of 
the State, which gave to farmers opportunity to mortgage 
not ouly their land and stock, but also the growing crop. 
By that means was held out, an inducement to run ex- 
travagantly into debt, in the hope of what might be 
produced. It also furnished an inducement to try to shun 
payment of debts thus contracted and occasioned in the 
long run much trouble and distress. 

The school interest was largely neglected, not to say, 
in many places, ignored. The public school was the 
chief dependence, and this owing partly to the shortness 
of the term, and partly to the looseness with which the 
funds were applied, failed to accomplish the best results. 



THE COMMUNITY. 27 

Many children were growing up all over the country with 
the merest smattering of a common school education. 
This was to be charged somewhat to the insufficiency of 
the public schools as mentioned above, somewhat to the 
unprosperous condition of the country, but more largely 
to the want of public spirit and to the indifference of 
parents in respect to the education of their children? 
There were very few schools of any permanence save in 
some of the towns. 

As respects religious belief, the country was largely 
Baptistic. There were a few^ scattering Catholics, the 
result of an effort in the last few years made by the 
Catholics on the coast to extend their influence north- 
ward ; but this movement soon came to naught. There 
were some Methodist families in the community, and 
they seemed to be increasing rather than diminishing in 
influence. The congregation at Bethany was first an 
arm of Silver Creek church some seven miles southwest. 
It was constituted a church in 1819 under the labors of 
Eld. John P. Martin, the father of Eld. M. T. Martin 
now of Texas. He w^as one of the pioneer preachers of 
this section. I have heard the citizens speak of the time 
when he walked from his home as I remember, on Holi- 
day's Creek some ten miles off and preached to the rustic 
settlers under the shades of Whitesand's trees. Soon 
after its recognition as a church, it became the charge of 
Eld. Norvel Robertson, Jr., under whose care it con- 
tinued until his death, a period of more than forty years. 
In the five or six years that followed his death, the 
church had been served by about as many pastors, some 
of them among the best in the State. 

The membership now numbered about two hundred 
and fifty. For a few years the number had been declin- 



28 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

ing. Of the membership one division was fully abreast 
with the times, ready for any advanced movement be- 
yond the old lines of church work. Another part were 
more conservative, slow to give up the old methods, or 
to sanction any new movement, but good brethren, rooted 
and grounded in the faith. A third part consisted of 
those who are found, alas ! in all churches, who seem to 
be there merely as a matter of course, just for the name 
of being church members, with no better aim, apparently 
than to escape the sinner's hell and attain to the Chris- 
tianas heaven. Such was the country and 'community 
which was to be the greatest concern to me, and to claim 
the largest share of my affection, for the next few years. 



CHAPTER V. 

Visit to Bunker Hill. — A View of the Eeligious Situation. 

As soon as I was settled, having but half my time 
filled up, I began to look around for other work. All 
the churches seemed to be supplied, but my attention 
was called to a community in Marion County at Bunker 
Hill, ten miles north of Columbia. It was spoken of 
as a community that gave promise of development. 

Leaving the neighborhood of Bethany one Friday 
morning, I journeyed southward over the long ridges, 
bearing up their wei.ht of evergreen pines. There was 
little other vegetation, and the eye had a far and wide 
range. In a distance of fourteen miles, I passed only 
three dwellings, w^ith small farms attached. The people 
lived mostly on the creeks, at a distance from the public 
highway, which lay along the ridges. The country 
stretches out in undulations of hills and valleys, cov- 
ered only with tall green grass and dense pine forests. 
Here and there the road is intersected by beautiful clear 
rivulets, whose waters do not prevent the eye from 
reaching the pebbly bottom. It has not been long since 
this region was infested with outlaws, who made it 
unpleasant to live in it. 

About two o'clock in the afternoon I came upon an 
ancient little frame building on the slope of a high hill. 
Halting in front of the door, I could see the children 
ranged on benches, with books in hand. It reminded 
me of old times, w^hen I, too, was a pupil in a school of 

•29 



30 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

the pine woods. There came to the door a pleasant- 
looking little man, in bare feet^ with his breeches legs 
slightly rolled up, and his black hair hanging down to 
his brows. I inquired^ ^^ Which way, and how far is it 
to Jonathan Cox^s?" Said he, ^^ Just go down there 
and take the first right hand, and in about a quarter 
take a left hand, and in a half mile more take another 
right hand. That ^11 take you there. It's about two 
miles.'' In half an hour I was riding up to Jonathan 
Cox's gate. I told him I was the pastor of Bethany 
church. '' Well, get down," he replied, *^ Baptist 
preachers always find a welcome in my house." That 
evening there was a log-rolling in the community, and 
it was circulated that the pastor of Bethany church 
would preach at the school-house next Sunday. I was 
told that they had already secured the promise of a 
preacher for once a month, but that most of the men, 
from the way they talked, seemed to want him and me 
also. The truth is, a college preacher was somewhat of 
a curiosity ; a scarce, not to say an unknown, commodity. 
There had been a prejudice against any preacher who 
had '' rubbed his back against a college wall," but a 
change Avas already coming. 

Sunday came with its hallowed quiet. The little 
school-house was filled. A good showing was made for 
a Sunday-school. The teaching, reciting, singing — all 
were praiseworthy. After services I was unanimously 
requested to preach regularly for them. I told them I 
would like to do so, provided they could pay me for my 
services. On being asked what I would expect, I said 
I thought they might pay me one hundred dollars. I 
noticed some eyes in the audience open pretty w^ide ; for 
it was not customary to mention a salary, nor was it 



BUNKER HILL. 



31 



common for a preacher to receive so much from one 
congregation. They concluded to ask me to come again, 
while they took the matter under advisement. On my 
next visit an outdoor conference was held, and it was 
agreed to offer me five dollars a trip, which would be 
two and a half dollas a day for actual time spent, except 
Sunday, for which, of course, I would not think of charg- 




T. D. BUSH. 



ing. As I had some desire to preach there any way, and 
as I knew that, if I refused their offer, it would cut off 
my head and strike a blow at college preachers in gen- 
eral, I accepted. The other preacher did not continue 
his appointment. 

The community had already received a fresh impulse,, 
and started on a new era without knowing the destiny 
to which it hastened. Holiday^s Creek flowed near by. 



32 FIVE YEARS IX SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

The settlement lay alon^ this and the branches tributary 
to it. The manner of life was simple and unaffected. 
Wealth and culture were not boasted of, but the people 
showed a fair degree of intelligence. They were gener- 
ous and hospitable, industries, honest, and willing to 
learn. Many children were growing up in the com- 
munity. Young families w^ere taking position in society. 
It was just such a community as might be expected to 
make a rapid transition from a rude, uncultivated state 
to one of culture and refinement. 

On my return from the first visit to Bunker Hill, I 
searched for the home of Eld. T. D. Bush. He lived 
seven miles west of the line between Bethany and 
Bunker Hill, within one mile of Society Hill church. I 
reached his home about eleven o^clock on Monday morn- 
ing. I had met him years before, l)ut he was now 
somewhat changed. The young, raw volunteer had be- 
come a veteran, inured by many a conflict. He was 
large and stalwart. From an intelligent fcice he flashed 
upon you a piercing eye. His independent and manly 
bearing made you feel that you were in the presence of 
a soldier of valor. From reputation I knew him to be 
a progressive, zealous worker, who stood for the right. 
He could boast of few educational advantages, but his 
marked, native ability, inquiring mind, and studious 
habits, to a great extent, made up for this deficiency, 
while his strong courage, warm zeal, and ready speech 
made him strong in the Lord's cause. 

This will be a good place to take a view of the relig- 
ious condition of the country. It is dotted over with 
Baptist churches. The only other denomination of any 
considerable strength is the Methodists, and they are far 
inferior in numbers. The great mass of the people 



THE CHURCHES. 33 

hold the Baptist faith. They come out to their churches 
on Saturday and Sunday once a month. The preacher 
is most commonly from a distance often, twenty or thirty 
miles, or further. He comes, preaches, stays over night 
and returns. The religious life of the churches is 
feeble. Some few churches have regular Sunday-schools. 
Prayer-meetings are not generally kept up. In winter 
the houses have no convenience for heating; during a 
large part of the year the creeks are frequently full so 
as to prevent traveling, and the meetings are poorly at- 
tended. There has been much prejudice against edu- 
cated preachers and against Mississippi College as the 
place where they are ^^ manufactured.^^ The churches 
ail claim to be missionary churches, but hundreds of 
their members never give anything for missions. In 
many churches no effort is made to raise funds for any 
benevolent enterprise. It much fewer is there any plan 
of regular systematic benevolence. Lawrence County, 
a few years ago, secured the passage of a law prohii)it- 
ing the sale of intoxicating liquors in her bounds. Cov- 
ington soon followed, and Marion, which is now (1882) a 
cesspool of ardent spirits, is soon to follow. But there 
is much drinking, ungodly revelling and lawlessness even 
among church members, and this is true of a great many 
of the Baptists, who live on much as their fathers lived, 
feeling little responsibility as to the world^s salvation — 
sleeping! sleeping! sleeping! Wake up, ye dreaming, 
dying churches! Tlds is a progressive age. What 
avails your orthodox creed, if at last ye be found un- 
profitable servants? 

This description reveals a state of spiritual decay, and 
to some it w^ould be puzzling to account for. The 
churches do not seem to be so pure as they once were. 



34 FIVE YEACS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

They are not so zealous for the truth, except for the 
mere form of it. They are not so full of life, and so 
ready to learn and to do their duty. But has there been 
any departure from the faith of the fathers? Are not 
usages and customs the same? Why then should thtre 
be any decline ? The answer is to be found in the 
changed circumstances and in the increased responsibil- 
ities of this generation. When the country was thinly 
settled and undeveloped, church life was new and the 
membership were w^eak. Then there was abundant op- 
portunity at home f >r utilizing all the strength of the 
members. Now the country has been largely taken for 
Christianity. Strong churches have been built up in 
almost every community, and there is a surplus of talent 
generally. The home country no longer demands all 
the work of which the churches are capable. Unless 
this surplus strength is employed and utilized it must 
surfeit and decay. It is not enough to do as our fathers 
did; our increased numbers, wealth and opportunities in» 
crease our ohligations, and unless our church work 
keeps pace w^ith our material strength, there must be 
spiritual decline. The best eflForts for Christ of every 
member of every church are demanded. If this is too 
high a standard to attain, it is not too high to C(»ii- 
stantiy aim at. If it is constantly aimed at while we 
grow in numbers and wealth, we shall also grow in spir- 
itual power and influence. The first crying demand is 
for intelligent, devoted pastors; not for preachers sim- 
ply, who come from a distance to meet a congregation 
on Saturday and Sunday, but for real undershepherds of 
Christ, who shall be overseers of the flock, living in the 
midst of their people, consecrating their time and ener- 
gies to serving the people in the family circle, as well as 



THEIE >sEEDS. 35 

in the pulpit; exerting a living power for godliness by 
their upright life; making the pastorate their ex- 
clusive business. 

Next in importance, perl.aps, is the demand for more 
frequent church meetings. It has grown to be a kind 
of law among country churches to have services but one 
Sunday, and the Saturday before, in each month. This 
is clung to in some places with as much tenacity as if 
the Scriptures really warranted the practice. I do n^t 
remember ever to have heard but one passage of Script- 
ure so construed as to lend support to this custom. 
That is the passage concerning the tree of life (Rev. 
xxii. 2) which bare twelve mannerof fruit and yielded its 
fruit every month. I once heard the opinion advanced 
in a sermon that this meant the preacher in his monthly 
ministrations to the churches. But this interpretation 
entirely misses the meaning of the passage, namely, that 
the Lord Jesus Christ is the spiritual life of his ^people 
and suj)plies them w^ith nourishment at every season. 
It has also the misfortune of being out of harmony with 
the apostolic practice. The model churches of those 
early times had each their own pastor, and commonly 
a plurality of elders, and met, as it seems, for service 
every Lord's day. I can conceive of no sufficient reason 
for appropriating but one Lord's day out of every four 
to Christian service, except it be that this is the very 
least that can be done to maintain regular worship at 
all. No wonder that we complain of feeble spiritual 
life, of undeveloped churclies, looseness and indifference. 
Query: ^^ How shall the churches employ themselves 
on three out of the four Sunday in each month?" 

There are many churches, it is true, which are not 
able to support a pastor for his w^hole time, nor perhaps 



36 FIVE YEAES I^ SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

for half his time; yet it should be a serious question 
with every church as to how many Sundays in each 
month she can have the gospel preached from her pul- 
pit; and when there can not be preaching in the tech- 
nical sense of the word^ why is it not the duty of the 
Church to assemble and aiFord exercise to such gifts as 
she may possess in teaching, exhortation, praise and 
prayer? If Sunday is a day of rest from the toils and 
cares of secular life, it does not seem to follow that it 
should be a day for staying at home and indulging in 
that most common of luxuries — laziness. The church 
prayer- meeting is sadly neglected. I know of but one 
country church that keeps up all the time a w^eekly 
prayer-meeting. During the protracted meeting week they 
are commonly considered indispensable, but at no other 
season. I am aware that the distance from the church 
at which the members often live makes it difficult to 
keep up a prayer-meeting in the week ; but where there 
can not be night meetings, as in the cities, there is no 
reason why the church should not meet for prayer and 
social w^orship on Sundays not otherwise occupied. I 
must confess to an apprehension tl^at meetings for relig- 
ious service have come to be considered too much a pas- 
time and a social convenience, rather than a divine and 
holy concern, that must be maintained and pushed with 
nil our energies. The early Christians counted it a joy 
to suffer for Christ, while we count it extremely bur- 
densome to do a little inconvenient work to keep the 
cause of Christ movini^ forward. Oh, for a revival of 
the apostolic spirit! When we^consider that the well- 
being of the churches is dependent on the blessings of 
God, and that the spiritual development of their mem- 
bers depends on the religious services in which they en- 



WORSHIP. 37 

gage, it would seem strange that so important an insti- 
tution as the prayer-meeting has fallen into disuse. The 
disposition prevails extensively to limit the services to 
the performances of the preacher, which consist usually 
of reading a portion of Scripture, the announcement of 
a couple of hymns, the sermon, another song, the bene- 
diction; and this, remember, is done only one Sunday in 
each month. 

Another service which is slighted is the service of 
song. It is unnecessary to dwell upon its importance. 
Every pious heart will bear its own testimony to that; 
but in our country churches it generally goes a-begging. 
The singing is often unworthy of an assembly engaged 
in the worship of God, and tends to diminish ratlier 
than to increase the devotional spirit. I would urge 
nothing as to tlie use of instruments in church. I 
doubt not they may be serviceable where they are em- 
ployed simply to lead, and thus aid the congregation in 
singing. In city churches it is the custom to pay the 
choir leader, and certainly the service is of sufficient 
importance to justify this expenditure. But whatever 
may be the custom in this respect, the church with the 
pastor certainly are under oliligations to provide good 
music. From my observation, I think that th^re is not 
so much advantage in singing schools taught for a week 
or ten days as there is in regular singing services for 
practice in sacred music. In some places there is a dis- 
position to practice only Sunday-school songs, and when 
a hymn is started nobody can sing it. Sunday-school 
songs are very well for Sunday-schools ; but psalms and 
hymns for church service. 

I shall say nothing in this connection as to Sunday- 
schools, except to point out what seems to me to be 



38 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

one defect. The Sunday-schools are not made interest- 
ing enough to older people. This is the more important 
to be considered in churches where services are not held 
every Sunday. If the grown people^ including the 
older ones^ do not take an interest and attend the 
Sunday-scliool^ it is because the exercises are not inter- 
esting to them. This is a defect that should be reme- 
died. If the existing order of service is not such as to 
enlist older people^ it should be so altered if possible, 
as to enlist everybody and thus furnish a means of 
work and worship for the whole church. And this 
will prove the surest way of securing the attendance of 
the children. 

An important item is the development of Christian 
intelligence. In addition to literary and Sunday-schools 
the circulation of good books is of great benefit. It is 
painful to observe how inany families have no books^ 
and how many children grow up without means of study^ 
or any inducement to read good books. A wise system 
of colportage is most beneficial^ as it brings to the people 
choice religious books and gives them a chance to select 
for themelves. The time has come when the colporteur 
or agent of good books is looked upon not as a mere 
nuisance^ or a pest^ but as a valuable supplement to so- 
ciety. 

Of equal, if not superior value, is the religious jour- 
nal, for its power to create intelligence, stimulate social 
and business tact, instil religious sentiments and promote 
virtuous habits. At the same time it is a comfort and a 
joy. The most interesting meetings we have are experi- 
ence meetings, and the choice books, likewise, are those 
which speak to our experience and bring home practical 
truths to our consciousness. The religious journal 



BENEFICIAL EESULTS. 39 

comes to us bearing not only news items, but also in- 
structive comments about what is going on in the world, 
and bits of experience clipped from the lives of living 
persons, and of those who are now passed away. Why 
do I take a religious paper? Why can I not do without 
it? Because it comes to be as a friend. It enters into 
my sympathies. It gives me advice and comfort, and 
strengthens me w^ith the experience and views of others. 
Many of its contributors I have not seen, yet I learn to 
know and love them. 

And what will be the benefit resulting from such in- 
creased activity? Its value will be seen in the number 
of souls converted and saved. In many of our churches 
there is a positive decline in membership for years at a 
time; in churches, too, which are surrounded by large 
numbers of unconverted. The protracted meeting is 
depended on for an ingathering to swell the numbers of 
the membership ; yet with all the energy and ardor of 
these too often spasmodic efforts, the number scarcely 
increases from year to year. 

The benefits of increased activity will likewise be 
manifest in the improved character of church members. 
It is often objected by men of the world that they can 
see no difference in conduct between church members 
and non professors. This is the most powerful argu- 
ment the unconverted have for resisting the efforts of 
the churches in their behalf Who will say that there 
is no force in the argument? If there is to be no dis- 
cernihle difference between the life of the church mem- 
ber and th:it of the non-professor, where will appear the 
advantage of being a member of a church? Nothing 
can correct this grievous fault but enlisting the churches 
in more frequent and zealous service for Christ. Church 



40 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

discipline in the way of trial and exclusions will not 
correct the evil ; it requires a discipline of a different 
kind. 

Its benefits will further be felt in the increased intel- 
ligence and improved moral condition of the country. 
Crime will be less frequent. Lawlessness and irreligion 
must decline before increasing spirituality. Industry 
will prosper^ for religion makes people industrious. 
Contentment and happiness will prevail^ for these are 
the fruits of religion. The people will have a conscious- 
ness of serving God^ vvliich will be to them the earnest 
of every blessing. 

Again its benefits will be apparent in the increased 
number of preachers and other teachers. It was a cause 
of earnest solicitude to our Savior that^ vvnile the har- 
vest is so great^ there are so few laborers. He bade his 
disciples pray that laborer^ be sent into the vineyard. 
Let there be a revival of religious work among the peo- 
ple of Chric^t, and young men will volunteer to become 
standard bearers of gospel ; and the dearth which is so 
lamented in the ministry will cease to be felt. 

Finally, its benefits will be seen in the increase of 
missionary zeal and work. The Lord's treasury will be 
full from the contributions which otherwise might be 
spent in folly, and the now crying demand for means to 
send those are who offering for foreign services will be 
satisfied. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Settling Down to Work. — The Pastoral Relation. 

On the advice of brethren, I engaged board with Sis- 
ter Robertson. She lived on the western extremity of 
the community^ six miles from the church. The home- 
stead was a modest one, hid away behind hills and 
groves. It was here that Bro. Robertson had lived, 
worked and died ; here the family had been reared. It 
seemed a sacred place, hallowed by pious lives. It 
had been six years since the veteran soldier slept the 
sleep of death. The widow had continued to live here 
with surviving children, and a family of faithful ser- 
vants. She was advanced in years, yet was quite as in- 
dustrious and active as a maiden. Her face beamed with 
health and intelligence ; she was sociable, sensible, witty. 
I have never seen a more saintly woman, nor a more 
agreeable, companionable lady. The two young ladies 
were models of Christian culture, having been reared in 
the faith of the Gospel, and with liberal advantages of 
education. They were to me much as sisters ; the younger, 
Miss Lou, was frequently my companion — she was good- 
natured, jovial, plain, of superior intelligence. Miss 
Sally was a kind, advisory friend, ever ready to make 
thoughtful suggestions to her Brother Pastor, all of 
which were much appreciated. William, the youngest 
and only surviving son, was an intelligent young man, 
deservedly popular, but rheumatism ha 1 seized upon 
him. It had bound him w^ith an invisible chain, from 

41 



42 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

Avhich he was destined to suffer until freed by death. 
His faithful and patient wife watched by his side. This, 
then^ was my adopted home. There could scarcely have 
been a more pious, or a more quiet one. I was free to 
roam over the fields and woods at leisure, or to sit down 
in the quiet study, which adjoined the sitting room of 
the family, where could be heard a gentle murmur of 
familiar voices. Here were friendship, sympathy, and 
kindly watch-care for otheiV good, and for the well- 
being of the church. If I did not then appreciate my 
fortune, I have long since learned to do so. Those holy 
influences linger still, fresh and potent about me. This, 
too, was a country home. I knew not yet of the uproar- 
ious whirl of the mad city. Here was occasion for much 
communion with nature and nature's God, with self, also, 
as well as with friendly hearts. 

It was in the midst of such surroundings I commenced 
the duties of the pastorate. There is no calling more 
blessed, if it has its peculiar trials, it yields also rare 
pleasures. It is a work of highest benevolence, aiming 
at the benefit of human souls; consequently it is produc- 
tive of highest joy. It sets up no goal of worldly ambi- 
tion, nor promises earthly wealth or honor ; but calls for 
unselfish devotion to the spiritual welfare of human be- 
ings, and its goal is the enduring fame of eternity. To 
go into this pursuit and follow it as a means of making 
money, would be to prostitute the Gospel of Christ and 
profane the temple of God. TsTor is it allowable in this 
calling to work for the applause of men ; for, in the full- 
est sense, the preacher is the servant of God, and he 
must labor to w^in the approval of his Lord. Nor is he 
permitted to seek a life of ease, if he is faithful to his 
calling. The salvation of souls, and the superintendence 



THE PASTOR AND THE CHUKCH. 43 

of Christ^s mission is the most responsible and urgent 
business in the world. He will have burdens to bear, to 
lead the erring to Christy and guide aright in duty those 
who have put on Christ. The care of his charge wall be 
on him, nnd more or less of the whole cause of Christ, 
according as he takes interest in the work. In addition 
to these things he W'ill have the direction and the care of 
those who look to him for temporal support, for social 
and educational advantages. Oftentimes, it may be, he 
will have occasion to weep, when he w^eighs on the one 
hand his interest in those whom nature has made dear to 
him, and, on the other, his responsibility for those over 
whom grace has given him the charge. But over against 
these trials wdll be experienced the consolation which 
comes from the loving symp)athy of hearts which he 
knows are faithful to him and to the Lord's cause. How 
cheering, amid the conflicts, is the thought tliat there are 
some w'ho are ready to stand by him and share his work, 
even to death; to know that from true hearts prayers are 
rising to God in his behalf. 

The faithful Church will not be unmindful of her pas- 
tor's cares; but will extend to him sincere sympathy and 
unfeigned affection ; she w^U be praying for him, and 
thus bearing him up against the trials and difficulties of 
his work; she will commend his virtues, and earnestly 
pray and labor for his improvement. 

The devoted Church ^w^ili be jealous of her pastor's 
welfare and happiness ; she realizes that her own inter- 
est and prosperity are vitally connected with his success. 
She recognizes the fact that God has established the rela- 
tion of un lershepherd, and* that Church and pastor are 
one, that Christ maybe glorified. The wise Church wall 
not stint her pastor in his temporal support; it is to her 



44 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

interest that his hands be united^ and his mind, as far as 
possible, be relieved of business cares, that he may give 
himself wholly to the ministry of the Word and to 
prayer. She will not wish that those dependent on him 
should lack educational and social advantages, nor think 
it an unreasonable thing if he is careful to provide for 
them. Moreover, it is just, since he ministers to her in 
spiritual things, that she should minister to his wants in 
temporal things. This is the Scriptural law, " The laborer 
is worthy of his hire/^ The prosperity of the cause de- 
pends on the mutual love and co-operation of the Church 
and the pastor. Neither is infallible; neither has 
absolute authority ; neither is independent of the 
other; both are subject to Christ, and dependent alike on 
him. 

While it Is utterly foreign to the spirit of the Gospel 
for the minister to assume any arbitrary authority over 
the Church, yet the Scriptures recognize that his official 
position as overseer, or bishop, gives him influence and 
real authority as leader. It is his especial duty to study 
the interests of the Church. His opinion, it would 
seem, on any matter, ought to be received with deferer- 
ence and consideration. While a Church certainly 
should not accept the suggestions of her pastor without 
delii)eration, yet she should be slow to oppose any plans 
suggested by him, since he is supposed to have a 
better knowledge of what concerns her interest than 
any one who has not made those things a special study. 
The chief thing is the maintainance of a truly fra- 
ternal spirit between the pastor and all the mem- 
bers. The pastor should consult freely in all mat- 
ters of importance with the leading brethren of the 
Church. Their advice will be well worth his heeding. 



A BEIGHT PROSPECT. 45 

My ivceptioii by the people of Bethany was all that 
could be desired. I found them to be a warm-hearted 
and appreciative people, ready to follow the suggestions 
of their pastor, in whom they showed much confidence. 
They had been reared under the teachings of Norvel 
Robertson, and the thoroughness and purity of his in- 
structions were seen in the firmness with which they held 
to the simple truths of the Gospel. A ladies^ mission 
society, the first in this section, was organized by as noble 
a band of women as ever met to be about the Lord^s 
business. A Sunday-school was constituted at the 
church ; for, while there had been Sunday-schools in dif- 
ferent sections of the community, it seemed desirable 
that all should unite in a Sunday-school at the church, 
which was near the center. This would t* nd to concen- 
tration of effort, and surely there was no other part of 
the community which needed more the evangelizing in- 
fluences of such meetings. So a Sunday-school was estab- 
lished. It was destined to be glorious, at least in the 
earnest efforts put forth to build up a strong interest. 
Many people, young and old, were, for a time, brought 
together for instruction in the same classes. 

Bethany Church now bade fair to be prosperous. 
There was peace and apparent good-will among the 
members. Pray er-meetinu^s were held in different neigh- 
borhoods, and a good deal of pastoral work was done. 
Preaching services were held at the church twice a 
month, efforts were made to secure religious contribu- 
tions, and to extend the circulation of religious papers. 
The only ill omen was the bare fact that many, perhaps 
the majority of the members, did not sympathize with 
the advance movement of the church. Many habitually 
absented themselves from the church on the fir^t Sunday, 



46 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

and some confidently argued that it was better to hold 
preaching only once a months since the members desired 
to visit other churches. On the same principle it would 
be better for a lady to leave her own home work half 
done and spend the greater part of the time visiting 
among her neighbors. 



CHAPTER VIT. 

The Question as to ''What Pays" Considered.— The Church's 
R^ sponsibility to Christ. 

A church, in one sense, is a business institution, or- 
ganized for the purpose of miuntaining saving truths 
and disseminating them through the world. She is de- 
p 'udent for the success on the nunaber and cliaracter of 
her members, and on the zeal and policy with which she 
strives to spread and enforce the truth. The question 
may be well raised, " What will pay ?^^ It will be to her 
interest to adopt such plans as will build her up and 
make h.er strong and efficient. Two things must be 
borne in mind, when we think of the church in this re- 
lation. The first is that she is in deadly conflict with 
the spirit of the world ; and she should bring on the 
fight. Sh.e is an aggressive body, an attacking force. 
The second is that she can not afford to stand still or to 
stop; the enemy she fights is the devil, and he is 
strongly fortified in human nature, which is the battle 
ground. If she stands still her cause falters, for the 
enemy is never still. He is busily engaged strengthen- 
ing his strongholds, spying out her weak places, and 
making apostates in her ranks. She can never relax her 
vigilance until his power is completely broken, his forces 
routed and himself subdued. In maintaining herself 
against this foe and pushing forward her cause in the 
world, it need scarcely be said that while the weapons of 
her warfare are not carnal but spiritual, and while she 

47 



48 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

recognizes her dependence upon divine lielj), she should 
use the best skill at command in her relations with the 
world. He would be considered % novice nowadays who 
should contend that a church ought not to have a house 
of worship^ and yet a few hundred years ago, some Bap- 
tists refused as unscriptural any such thing as a church 
house. They found no examples to justify it in the New 
Testament. They met in private houses and in rented 
halls, for they had the apostles^ example for that, but 
they would take no stock in a church house. At present 
a church is not considered well established unless she 
has a house. Only then can she worship God under 
her own vine and fig tree. 

It will pay to keep the church house comfortable and 
in neat repair. There is no good reason why rotten 
door steps should remain standing, or the encircling 
fence be falling down. Carelessness in external appear- 
ance indicates carelessness in the internal work of the 
church. Men will judge the character of a person by 
his outward appearance, and the same is true of the 
character of the church. The judgment may not al- 
Avays be just, but often it may. It will be formed any 
way. If it be said that these things make no difference, 
that God does not disdain to meet his people in the most 
humble place, we answer it may not make any difference 
as to the acceptance of our worship, but it makes a dif- 
ference even with ourselves and often with other people. 
While the Holy Spirit in conversion changes the heart, 
he does not change the taste, nor the business-like way 
of conducting affairs of importance. It is the purpose 
of the church to seek out and win the unconverted. 
While the matter of taste may be carried to an extreme in 
our wealthy city churches, so that the more humble classes 



CHURCH COMFORTS. 49 

are repelled by excessive finery^ yet this can furnisli no 
argument against soundness, neatness and comfort. ^"'A 
thing of beauty is a joy forever ;^^ I do not despise style. 
I notice that every flower has its fashion and every bird 
its peculiar dress. I suppose man first obtained his ideas 
of fashion from the works of God. Only fashion should 
not be permitted to run to extreme, and in church orna- 
mentation must be kept entirely subordinate to the idea 
of spirituality. 

It will pay to make the church house comfortable. It 
should be made to protect not only from the rain and 
sun, but also from the cold of w^inter. Else there will 
be a large part of the year when any meeting may be 
interrupted. In country churches where they have only 
monthly services it is not uncommon for one, two, or 
even three successive meetings to be disappointed on the 
account of unfavorable weather. And yet the expenses 
of the church are running on. I have known a respect- 
able crowd of young people to go to church on a cold 
day and stay out of doors by a fire while the preacher 
went in the house and tried to preach to a few who were 
shivering with cold. Again I have known a good con- 
gregation to be dismissed after standing for some time 
around a log fire, because it was deemed too cold to go 
into the house to hold services. Would it not pay to 
make a little further outlay and let the people know that 
if they come to clmrch on a cold winter^s day, they may 
be comfortable at least after they get there ? ^^ A word to 
the wise is sufficient.'^ 

It will pay to have efficient officers. It is well under- 
stood to be of prime importance in any other institu- 
tion to maintain a good corps of officers. No organiza- 



50 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTPI MISSISSIPPI. 

lion can do well witliout men capable and qualified to 
direct its business. The first church officer is the pastor. 
The office is of divine appointment and is the most re- 
sponsible in the world. His words and conduct, public 
and private^ carry a weight for or against religion, that 
does not belong to the life of any other person. To some 
he appears a divine guide, and to all, as the most con- 
spicuous example of a professed follower of Christ. 
From his utterances in the pulpit, from his private life 
by the force of example, from the general make-up of 
his character, even his hidden disposition, as well as his 
known qualities, there flow influences the most whole- 
some or pernicious. How forcible the injunction for 
preachers of the gospel. " Be ye wise as serpents and 
harmless as doves.^^ The pastor's influence is felt along 
every avenue of church life. It exerts itself upon every 
member of the church and community. How certainly, 
then, is the well-being of the church suspended upon one 
to whom all look as the chief exponent of the cause the 
church lives to sustain. If a church should seem to 
think it makes little difference who goes in and out be- 
fore her, let her reflect on what must be his influence. 
It is a wise remark, which I have heard repeated more 
than once, that a church never prospers under an inef- 
ficient pastor. Every true minister feels the responsibil- 
ity, and instead of piping criticisms, he needs the warm 
sympathy of his brethren, their perpetual watch-care 
and incessant prayers. All his efforts will be failures 
without their support. 

The only other New Testament officer is the deacon. 
I shall not enter upon any discussion of the duties that 
pertain to this office. Modern opinion has assigned to 



DEACON^S OFFICE. 51 

deacons the financial care and responsibility of the church. 
As far as the Scripture indicates it seems to be their 
proper work to serve tables ; which does not, however, 
mean as so many of our deacons have understood it, to 
pass around bread and wine, but evidently to attend to 
the temporalities of the church. The pastor then for the 
spiritual oversight of the whole church, the deacon for 
the temporal concerns of the body of Christ. To pro- 
vide for the pastor^s support, and for all church ex- 
penses, to look after any who may need help or atten- 
tion, to take care of the funds contributed for church 
purposes, to have a care for all church property, are some 
of the duties which naturally pertain to this office ; 
though each church should specify exactly what she ex- 
pects her deacons to do. I have known persons elected 
to this office on no other consideration than that of being 
blameless or inoffensive. While the New Testament 
distinctly requires that quality, the very nature of the 
office is such, and its responsibility, as to demand also 
business tact and qualities. In this respect we are at 
fault. One fruitful cause of the neglect of the duties of 
this office has been uncertainty as to what the deacon was 
expected to do. The limit of the office is not so clearly 
defined in the New Testament. Hence, as suggested 
above, every church should let her deacons know ex- 
actly what is expected of them. I shall offer but one 
further remark on this subject, namely : That while it is 
customary in some parts of the South for the deacon to 
hold office for life, in other parts of the country it is the 
custom for them to be elected every few years. This 
latter custom, it seems to me, has some advantages, for 
while it requires certain good qualities to fit one for this 
office, it is not claimed by any that a divine call is necessary, 



52 FIVE YKARS IN SOUTH J!41SSISSIPPI. 

and I see no reason why one should be maintained'in the 
office for life, except it be because he makes a good deacon. 

It remains to consider the church as a body. We are 
apt to abuse, to our hurt, the great truth that all bless- 
ings come from the Lord. We are disposed to lose sight 
of the connection between our labors and the fruit we 
reap. It is true in church life, as a rule, that what we 
work for that we obtain. The Lord blesses our labor. He 
does not bless us as instruments in saving others, unless 
we work for their salvation, not simply from our wishing 
it, not on account of our observance of certain forms, not 
by temporary or spasmodic efforts. He bestows His 
blessings as the result of prayerful efforts along the lines 
which He has appointed. Only by means of this sort 
will our churches become strong and fruitful. 

Under this head let us remember that it will pay (first) 
to keep up regular, freqaetit services. The success of 
the church depends more on the number and value of 
her church services, prayer-meetings, Sunday-schools, 
than anything else. By such means the fire of spiritual 
life receives new fuel and burns and glows with intenser 
heat ; its flames increase, reach out, and take hold of the 
outer world. How can she hope to permanently and con- 
stantly increase her membership but by keeping the fire on 
her altar bright. She may and should send forth a light 
that will attract those who are groping in darkness, and 
a heat that will warm into life those who are freezing to 
death from the coldness of this world^s comforts. Re- 
ligion is not a matter of social pleasure, but of solemn 
duty to God, and of genuine sympathy for fallen, lost hu- 
manity. The pleasures of religion are not the light and 
fleeting delights of the intercourse of friends, but the 
high and abiding joys of eternal life. 



BENEVOLENCE. 53 

It will pay (secondly) to organize the members into 
benevolent societies. Organization facilitates work. It 
is as essential to any progressive movement, as the proper 
arrangement of the wheels of a clock are to its running. 
A church should be like a well disciplined army, every 
member should have his place in the ranks, know what 
to do, and be ready to do it whenever called upon. 
Without organization, a church may maintain an exist- 
ence, but she can not do much work. 

It will pay (thirdly) to make collections frequently — 
Christian giving should be regarded as a service to God. 
It should form a part of our regular worship. Christ 
taught that it is better to give than to receive. When 
we receive we confer no favor upon other people — we 
are not benefactors ; but when we give we both enlarge our 
own capacities of benevolence and thus make ourselves 
better, while we confer benefits upon others. Christ taught 
us the obligation to give in these words : *^ Freely you have 
received, freely give.^' God gives to us that w^e may en- 
joy, and that we may have somewhat to bestow, and thus 
may imitate and serve him. Nor need we fear that our 
resources will be exhaustsd in giving to the Lord^s 
cause. For Christ makes this promise, ^^ Give and it 
shall be given unto yoii.'^ The apostle Paul gave the 
Corinthian brethren this assurance: ^^ And God is able 
to make all grace abound to yon, that ye having always 
all sufficiency, in all things, may abound unto every good 
work.^^ You may trace it out in all Scripture teachings, 
whether by precept or by example, and you will find that 
the one purpose of Christian life is t » do good, and not 
to receive good ; and we do good only by giving — giving 
work, giving sympathy, giving material aid. 

But this benevolent spirit must be cultivated. Strange 



54 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

to say^ there are thousands of church members who seem 
not to acknowledge any obligation to give of their means 
to the Lord^s cause, and that not because they are nig- 
gardly or illiberal. This is evident from their anxiety for 
you to visit them and stay all night with them, and from 
their generosity when you do go to see them. They are 
eager to give you something in the way of hospitality; 
but many of them would not give a cent to send the 
Gospel to the perishing men and women of other countries, 
nor, indeed, to those of our own country ; nor for any other 
benevolent work, outside of home charities. That sort 
of parsimony towards the Lord^s cause is the result of 
ignorance, prejudice, want of training. People have not 
been properly instructed as to this duty and blessing. 
Progress in this duty must be gradual. There must be 
line upon line and precept upon precept ; moreover, pre- 
cept will not suffice. There must be example, frequent 
and repeated. Collections are so seldom taken in some 
churches that the people feel like they are being dunned 
whenever a collection is proposed. But a collection is 
not a dun ; it is an opportunity to make a benevolent 
contribution. Collections should be taken so constantly 
that people will become used to them and get in the 
habit of giving regularly, for we do nothing well, except 
it has become a habit with us. 

How then does it pay for the church to make regular 
and frequent collections? It develops the benevolent 
spirit of the members ; and bear in mind that the church 
is dependent for all her funds, for every purpose, on vol- 
untary contributions. She can not lay a tax and com- 
pel payment. That would not be religious service. She 
must raise it by voluntary contributions, so the more she 
cultivates, in a regular, systematic way the benevolence 



THE CHURCHES RELATIOX TO CHEIST. 55 

of her people, the more readily she will raise funds for 
all purposes. 

Some good brethren seem to think the opposite of this 
statement is true, namely : The fewer collections the 
more money. They do n^t bear in mind the familiar 
truth, that if the cow is not milked regularly she will 
soon go dry. 

I have thus dwelt on the success of the church as a 
business body, it remains to consider her more responsi- 
ble relation. Let us look at her in the light of divine 
appointment. She is the " body of Christ,^^ called also 
His " bride.^^ She is His help-mate in this world's re- 
demption. She has been redeemed from death. She has 
been called from darkness into light. She is not her 
own, she has been bought ; and by her avowal of Christ 
as her Lord, she is committed to His service. She can 
not make her own ease and comfort the consideration of 
her life, else she proves unfaithful to her marriage vow, 
and becomes a false spouse. He sends her fcyrth into the 
world on a mission of salvation, with the promise of His 
perpetual presence in spirit, assuring her that He will re- 
turn in person and take her unto himself. But if some 
churches have proved unfa'thful, let them not think 
that they will be counted worthy. Their candlestick He 
will take from them, and, on the last day, they shall be 
appointed a place among hypocrites and unbelievers. 

We might imagine an interview of the Lord with His 
delinquent churches. He says to them : ^* Behold, I say 
unto you, lift up your eyes and look on the fields, for they 
are white already unto harvest. Pray ye the Lord of 
the harvest that he send forth laborers into his harvest.^^ 

The churches answer : " Lord, we are weak. It is all 
we ourselves can do to live.'' 



56 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

The Lord replies: ^^Ye have not chosen me, but I 
have chosen *you, that you should go and bring forth 
fruit, and that your fruit should remain.'^ ^^ Ye are my 
friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you.'' 

The churches respond : We are truly thy followers, 
Lord, we hold to thy ordinances. We are even ready to 
die for thee.'^ 

To this the Lord replies: ^^Not every one that saith 
unto me. Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of 
heaven ; but he that doeth the will of my Father which 
is in heaven.' ^' Why call ye me Lord, Lord, and do not 
the things which I say? This people htnoreth me with 
their lips, but their heart is far from me. For whoso- 
ever will save his life shall lose it ; and whosoever 
shall lose his life for my sake and the Gospel's, shall 
find it.^' 

The churches answer : ^' Lord, what is thy will, that 
we may do it ? " 

The Lord replies: ^^Let your loins be girded about 
and your lamps burning like unto men looking for their 
Lord, when he shall return from the marriage feast." 
^^ This Gospel of the kingdom shall be preached unto the 
whole world for a testimony unto all the nations, and 
then shall the end come. Go ye, therefore, and make 
disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of 
the Father and the Son and of the Holy Ghost, teaching 
them to observe all things, whatsoever I have com- 
manded you, and lo I am with you always, even unto 
the end." 

The churches answer; ^^ There is much destitution at 
home. There are many unbelievers in our own coun- 
try. Lord, dost thou hold us responsible for the salva- 
tion of ttie heathen ? " 



THE LORDS REPLY. 0/ 

The Lord replies : '' I am the way, the truth, and the 
life;" ^' no man cometh unto the Father but by me." 
"The Son of man came to seek and to save that which 
was lost." " The field is the world," " Ye are the light 
of the world ; " " ye are the salt of the earth ; but if the 
salt have lost its savour, wherewith shall it be salted. It 
is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out and to 
be trodden under foot of man." 

The churches answer: " Lord, thy servants are poor 
in this! world's goods, we are hard pressed. Hast thou 
fully considered our poverty ? " 

The Lord replies : " The foxes have holes and the 
birds of heaven have nests, but the Son of man hath not 
where to lay His head." "Lay not up yourselves 
treasures on earth, where moth and rust doth consume, 
and where thieves break through and steal ; but lay up 
treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth 
consume, and where thieves do not break through and 
steal ; for where thy treasure is there will thy heart be 
also." " No man can serve two masters, for either he 
will hate the one and love the other or else he will hold 
to the one and despise the other. Ye can not serve God 
and mammon." " Is not the life more than the food, and 
the body than the raiment ?" " Behold the birds of the 
hearen, they sow not neither do they reap or gather into 
barns, and yet your heavenly Father feedeth them." 
" Consider the lilies of the field how they grow, they toil 
not neither do they spin, yet I say unto you that even 
Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." 
*^ Seek ye first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all 
these things shall be added unto you." " Behold I come 
quickly, and my reward is with me to render to each man 
according to his works. I am the alpha and the omega, 



58 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

the first and the last^ the beginning and the end. Blessed 
are they that wash their robes that they may have right 
to the tree of life, and may enter in by the gates into the 
city. Without are the dogs and the sorcerers and the 
fornicators and the murderers and the idolaters, and 
every one that loveth and maketh a lie. Amen.^^ 



CHAPTEE VIII. 

Protracted Meetings. — Suggestions as to their Desirability and 

their Abuse. 

The summer draws on. Sol shoots his burning rays 
down on the head of the toiler, and drives him at noon 
with all the herds of the pasture into the shade to rest 
from midday exhaustion. The hot lazy summer, with 
its long dreamy days ! Oh, the angry heat ! The 
ground is parching ! The glossy corn writhes and 
twists, and the modest cotton wilts and droops. The 
garden, with its rows of cabbage heads; its running 
beans ; its long cucumber vines ; its lively peas and its 
homely tomatoes, pines away. "% The farmer sighs for 
rain, and lies down to take a noon nap ; but the house- 
fly faithfully reminds him that noon is not the time to 
sleep. There is not much more work to be done, the 
crops are about laid by, fodder pulling time is close at 
hand, and it is the season of fruits. The juicy peach 
hangs on the bending limb ; mellow apples cover the 
ground under the parent tree ; the delicious melon is 
brought in from the patch, cooled and sliced upon the 
wash bench at the end of the gallery, a feast too superb 
in all its freshness for princes. 

This is the time for protracted meetings, which are 
looked forward to as times of social greeting as well as 
revival seasons of religion ; for friends come from a dis- 
tance, and in these gatherings relatives meet. It is not 
uncommon for people to attend from a distance of 

5^ 



60 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

twenty miles and more. Protracted meetings unavoid- 
ably interfere with the regular church meetings, Sunday- 
schools, etc. It is customary for the church or pastor to 
invite one or more preachers to assist in the services. 
Some churches feel that they have slighted some one if 
every preacher in the whole country is not invited. I 
have frequently heard of meetings where seven or eight 
preachers were present. As waves, set in motion in dif- 
ferent directions, weaken and destroy one another, so, 
many different leaders will commonly interfere. But 
whether the pastor has any help or not there is usually a 
big crowd. Everybody turns out, on Sunday at least. 
Even the delinquent members, who have diligently 
stayed at home ever since the last annual meeting, are 
on hand. 

The order of exercises is prayer-meeting at ten or 
half-past, conducted by jthe preacher or some lay member, 
several brethren in turn lead in prayer, some short talks, 
interspersed with spiritual songs, a brief interim, and at 
half-past eleven or twelve preaching begins. The ser- 
mon commonly consumes about an hour, though I have, 
on such occasions, sat under the sound of the gospel for 
two and a quarter hours, in which time the preacher 
preached himself down and everybody else, and left the 
house as cold as an ice-palace. During aa hour's inter- 
mission dinner is served. It partakes of the character 
of a ieast, and exhibits the profu.-e hospitality of the 
country. After dinner a half-hour is spent in conversa- 
tion. The men group under the shade trees for chat; 
mothers are nursing their children ; a party gather in 
the house and make it resound with choice pieces of 
music ; the young men hang around in crowds, but 
some, more fortunate than their fellows, with fair com- 



PROTRACTED MEETING SEASON. 



61 



panions^ occupy the buggies, greatly to the annoyance of 
many good people. It is the common talk that, if 
there are any candidates for office, they make it a point 
to attend these meetings, and sometimes, which is unani- 
mously condemned as bad taste, evince more interest in 
the canvass than in the success of the meeting. After 




R. R. TURN AGE. 



recess, another sermon, the usual closing exercises of 
exhortations, offers of prayer, reception of members and 
the meeting adjourns until the morrow. 

I had been invited to attend on the third Sunday in 
July (1882), the church at Hepzihah, some fourteen 
miles south of Bethany, on the same creek. I reached 
the ground on Monday morning following. I found the 
the pastor, Eev. R. E. Turnage, with a crowd of 



62 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

people waiting impatiently. This was my first ac- 
quaintance with the pastor. He was a large fine 
looking old gentleman^ in appearance about fifty years 
of age. He had the bearing of a man of God. I 
had heard him spoken of in high terms^ and I found 
him to be of blameless life^ a supporter of every good 
work^ and always ready to forward the cause of Christ. 
Without the advantages of a collegiate education, he 
had improved his opportunities by private study^ and 
was devoting his powers to the LoixVs cause. The 
meeting continued but two days longer, quite to the dis- 
appointment of the visiting pastor. The brethren de- 
clared the fodder was burning up, and notwithstanding 
a good interest, we closed ; but as I rode homeward I 
thought to myself that I would not again, if I could 
know it before it before hand, attend a meeting which 
should continue no longer. The fourth Sunday in July I 
was attending the Baptist State Convention at Sardis. 
The first Sunday in August I was again with Bro. Turn- 
age at Ebenezer church in South Covington. Here I 
spent several days quite pleasantly, and, by request of the 
pastor, at the close of the meeting baptized two who had 
just declared for Christ. The week following I assisted 
Bro. Bush at Silver Creek. At the close of this meet- 
ing six were buried with Christ in baptism. 

The next week embracing the third Sunday was the 
time for my meeting at Bethany. It was a very precious 
one. Twenty put on Christ, and the church was much 
refreshed. In this meeting Bro. Bush was my helper, 
and the next week I accompanied him to Leaf River 
church, some forty miles east of Bethany. Bro. Tim- 
othy Rodgers was the efficient deacon, known and re- 
spected alike for his safe judgment in business matters 



AMONG THE CHUECHES. 63 

and for bis generosity and piety. A brother of Elder 
Norvel Robertson, with his family, lived in the com- 
munity. Elder Robertson had, at one time, lived here, 
and for some years had been pastor of the church. His 
eldest daughter, who was married to Mr. Caleb Welsh, 
lived not far from the church, and was a member of it. 
Her son, Bro. J. N. Welsh, also a deacon, gave promise 
of becoming a most useful citizen as well as an efficient 
servant of Christ. 

The church was strongly related in its history and 
membership with Bethany. Several cases of sickness 
prevented a large attendance on the meeting and so 
good an interest on the part of the church as we hoped 
for; yet the unconverted were interested, and at the 
close of the meeting half a dozen of converts were bap- 
tized. 

The next Sunday being the first in September, I filled 
my regular appointment at Bethany, and returned In the 
afternoon towards Leaf River to Salem church, near 
Williamsburg. I stopped Sunday night with Bro. J. T. 
Duckworth, the churches clerk and a leading man of the 
community. Monday morning I went with the family 
to Salem, where I found a company of appreciative 
people. Bro. M. X. Manning was the pastor. He 
preached in the forenoon what I called an excellent ser- 
mon, and in the afternoon the writer preached. This 
was my last day at Salem for some time. Already, 
while at church, I felt unmistakable symptoms of ma- 
larial fever. As the immediate result of the meeting 
a half-dozen were added to the church, among whom 
were two daughters of Bro. Duckworth. At his house 
I spent the week combating the fever, and Mrs. Duck- 
worth was my physician. I have never received better 



64 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

attention; and I may remark here that I have never 
anywhere found a more hospitable family. Never shall 
I forget nor fail to appreciate the attention and many 
tokens of respect which were so profusely given me at 
that period^ and in after years when I was their pastor. 
So soon as I was sufficiently recovered to travel, I was 
gladly surprised one evening by the appearance of W. 
L. Mikell, an esteemed brother from Bethany. He 
came with a buggy. This act made me sensible of a 
care, on the part of my people, of which I had not be- 
fore been aware. The Pearl River Association, of 
which my church was a member, had convened during 
my sickness, and I was thus denied the pleasure of at- 
tending. 

On the third Sunday I preached at Bethany, and in 
the afternoon started back to Williamsburg. Bro. Bush 
and I had proposed, when an opportunity should be 
offered, to hold aweek^s meeting at this place. Sunday 
night the Methodist circuit rider preached. On Monday 
at 11 A. M., I opened the week's meeting. Tuesday I 
was joined by Bro. Bush, direct from the Strong River 
Association. The meeting continued nearly all the 
week. There was no active Baptist church at Williams- 
burg. Once there had been a strong church, but it had 
divided, und parts of it had formed two country churches, 
Salem and Liberty. A form of a church had continued 
at Williamsburg, but I learned that it had not met for 
fifteen months or more. We liad a most refreshing 
meeting, one of the best I was ever engaged in. The 
whole town confessedly felt the impulse. The com- 
munity was deeply moved. Four persons professed faith 
in Christ. They were received into the fellowship of 
the church at Salem. 



OBJECTIONS CONSIDERED. 65 

We felt that the meeting was a great success. We had 
much for which to thank God. This was the last of my 
protracted meetings for that season. I take this occasion 
to offer some remarks on the benefits and the abuse of 
such meetings. It has been a question in the minds of 
some conscientious people as to whether protracted meet- 
ings are beneficial. I accord with the common opinion 
which recognizes their necessity. Some evils, however, 
appear to be connected with them. One is that it has 
become customary in the country to wait until the pro- 
tracted meeting comes round to join the church; even 
the holder of a letter commonly waits for the protracted 
meeting. The explanation is to be found, it seems to 
me, in the churches inactivity the whole year round. 
The lack of effort on her part to maintain an interest 
and to keep up the work of soul saving. The truth is 
the protracted meeting in many churches is the only time 
when there is any great effort made to convert sinners, 
and is it a wonder that outsiders do not feel the influence 
of the church sufficiently to enlist them until this special 
effort is made? May I not suggest that this objection 
will hardly be overcome until there is more constant 
effort for saving souls. 

Another objection is that the interest is often super- 
ficial and leaves the church in a colder condition than 
before. This, is perhaps to be traced to the same 
cause. The protracted meeting is depended on largely, 
if not exclusively for revival interest. When the meet- 
ing begins the church is cold. No special interest may 
be felt, but a revival is the end to be secured by all means. 
If an interest is not awakened in the congregation the 
meeting is a failure. Too often questionable means are 
resorted to in order to awaken the desired interest ; and 



66 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

when it comes It is of the superficial kind ; it is not deep 
and abiding. When Christian people attend the faithful 
preaching of the word^ and engage in sincere worship 
and earnest effort for the lost, then lasting good will be 
done ; but too often they attend to sensational appeals 
with a wrong purpose in view^ namely the l^purpose of 
getting members into the church. The result may be a 
great awakenings but an awakening of animal excite- 
ment. 

The objection also^ is urged that many people who are 
not converted are gathered into the church; it must be 
admitted that even in genuine revivals some will join 
the church who should not. Some will join because it is 
popular, or customary. Others will seek some wordly 
advantage in the church. Others again will have some 
mistaken notion of Christianity^ and thus under a false 
impression will join ; and so, in all ingatherings^ it may 
be expected some will be brought in who ought to be 
left out. This evil is frequently increased by the mis- 
taken view with which such meetings are often con- 
ducted. Too much stress is laid on joining the 
church. Not uncommonly indeed this is regarded as the 
main purpose. The number who join is made the 
standard of success. Let some one mention a protracted 
meeting. The first question is^ ^^ Did you have a good 
meeting V^ The second, " How many joined /^ or, 
^^how many did you get?'^ This evil may be largely 
corrected by considering what must be the purpose of all 
revival meetings, and by constant efforts all the year 
round for conversions. 

Having said this much in reference to objections to 
protracted meetings, I beg leave to submit some sugges- 



SUGGESTIONS. 67 

tions as to what must be their proper design, and as 
to the manner of conducting them. 

First, then, as it may be expected that there will 
always be revival seasons, it is certainly wise to improve 
them by special services, and it is but conforming to a 
law of business, which is, also, in accordance with na- 
ture, to set apart times to be devoted to revival efforts. 
But it should not be the design of such meetings merely 
to swell the membership of the church. 

I do not mean to disparage joining the church, nor to 
discourage reasonable effort to induce those who are con- 
verted to follow Christ publicly. But I wish to give 
emphasis to a truth which ought to be clear enough to 
all who believe in a regenerated church membership ; 
the end ainaed at in a revival meeting should not be to 
get joiners, and the blessings of such a meeting are not 
to be measured by the number who join. The bless- 
ings to be sought are higher and broader, of which ad- 
ditions to the church would be the natural result. 

The real design then of all revivals should be a nearer 
approach to God by all who name his name, a fuller con- 
sciousness of the divine presence in the person of the 
Holy Spirit, pardoning, refreshing, comforting, and 
strengthening, for the duties devolving upon every fol- 
lower of Christ, and finally, special prayers and 
labors every way for the salvation of the lost. Such a re- 
vival will not be an occasion for regret, nor will it be 
charged with any great evil results. The aim, then, in 
a revival should be to seek God in all the fullness of his 
Grace. The preaching should be the simple, earnest, 
loving Gospel delivered as a message from God, and all 
the services should be held in his fear. 

In reference to the custom of two services a day with 



68 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

dinner on the ground, I suggest that it might be better 
in its final effect to have but one preaching service a day 
where night meeting can not be held. The custom of 
two services^ which is now in vogue, has some objection- 
able features of which I will mention the following : 
It makes the meetings quite expensive; it imposes a 
great amount of trouble and labor on the female portion 
of the membership, and causes the meetings to partake 
too much of the nature of a social feast. It makes the 
people commonly impatient to get through with the 
series It encourages hasty and imperfect work ; it 
injures by overwork, a great many good preachers; it 
frequently, on account of the expense and worry, causes 
the meeting to close when the spiritual condition of the 
community demands that it should go on longer. For 
these reasons I opine, it would be better in the long run, 
and more in accord with the demands of the age to 
make the work less crowded, and contiuue the meetings 
longer, so as to have a good prayer-meeting in the morn- 
ing with exhortations, in which free speaking by the 
brethren shall be encouraged. Then a preaching service 
may follow^ and after that dismission for the day, unless 
night meetings can be held. In this way it oould be 
better afforded to continue the series of meeeings for a 
longer period. 

There are however some advantages in the present 
custom. It, perhaps, conduces to greater crowds, as 
some are attracted by the social feature and some by the 
free and rare lunch. It also conduces to enthusiasm. 
Yet I am inclined to think that these considerations are 
more than counterbalanced by the haste and the super- 
ficiality of the work. 



CHAPTER IX. 

'* Coming Events Cast their Shadows Before." 

When the meeting at Williamsburg began^ I had but 
partially recovered from the fever of two weeks be- 
fore^ but I was conscious of other cares. There came to 
me across the country^ ever and anon, thoughts of home 
and mother. It had been nearly three months since I 
had seen the family. My brother, w^ho had continued 
at home till the commencement of Mississippi College 
in June, was now engaged in teaching, some thirty 
miles from Clinton. I had made arrangements with a 
widow lady, an old acquaintance of my mother, to stay 
with them for company ; yet I knew whatever other cares 
they may have had they must be sad and lonesome^ 
and these thoughts filled me with sadness. Wednesday 
evening, I went a few miles into the country to spend 
the night with a friend, Mr. J. B. Rogers. These words 
were continually in mind: 

^'Oh, how praying rests the weary, 
Prayer can change the night* to day ; 
Then, when hfe seems dark and dreary, 
Do n't forget to pray." 

It was only in casting my thoughts upward to the foun- 
tain of all comfort that I could obtain momentary re- 
lief. 

I was awakened about midnight by a herald an- 
nouncing the death of my brother. I made baste to 

69 



70 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

Williamsburg, where I learned from the messenger from 
Rakin, that it was my youngest brother, seven years old. 
I thought it hardly prudent to start immediately to 
Clinton, as I was compelled to make the journey by 
horseback and under a burning sun. As the meeting 
was just under headway^ I concluded to Avait until its 
close. It was the next Wednesday morning when I 
reached Clinton. My little brother, who died very sud- 
denly, had been buried some days. The next oldest 
was now^ speechless with typhoid fever. In a few days, 
however, the crisis was passed, and it was to be hoped 
that the worst was over, but no sooner had he begun to 
recover than my brother next to myself, and my only 
sister that was living with us, were stricken down by 
the plague. Two weeks passed away and the young 
man, exhausted by fever, could no longer bear up against 
the ceaseless drain of sti^ength, and yielded to the in- 
evitable. Oh, death, how horrible thou art! Thou 
seemest never so terrible till thou touchest one nearest 
our life. 

The taking of my brother was getting near to myself. 
He had been my companion, my partner, my fellow. 
We had been reared together, had worked together ; in 
everything we had been united, and yet, as the younger, 
he had been under my influence. '' Brother at once and 
son.^^ I felt much pride in him, and gladly made my 
sacrifice to give him advantages. He was more popular 
than myself; had more friends, for he was of a very 
social and genial disposition. I looked forward to the 
time when he would take position in society as a useful 
and honored member of it. I was not at all prepared for 
his death, for I did not believe it was coming. I was 
confident that the Lord was on my side. I believed 



THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 71 

that he was committed to my success, that he was jeal- 
ous of my interest. Hence I was disposed to wink at 
adversity and any seeming opposition. I had no idea 
of death, and when the shock came it well-nigh un- 
nerved me. My faith seemed to be shaken. It must 
be that what I supposed was faith in the providence of 
God was only presumption. The most biting thought 
was that, perhaps, these calamities came on my account. 
They seemed as judgments sent from the Almighty. 
True, I was not conscious of any wrong purpose or am- 
bition. Yet it seemed now that my aspirations must be 
contrary to the Divine will, and I felt that others who 
were innocent, were suffering for my sins. These darts 
struck me with full and awful force. But the end was 
not yet. My sister slowly recovered. 

The remains of my brother w^ere borne aw^ay, and 
never shall I forget the roar of the iron horse as he 
rushed passed the homestead wdth the corpse, bearing it 
to the place of burial. He seemed to me to be the im- 
personation of death. In a few days it was evident that 
my mother, who had borne up so long, was infected with 
the disease. It was not thought best for her to remain 
at Clinton, so we sent her to her brother^s at Brandon, 
while I remained with the convalescent sister. In two 
weeks she was able to travel, and I conveyed her also to 
Brandon. Mother lingered through tw^enty-six days, 
and the spirit, weary of this world, took its flight to the 
regions beyond in pursuit of many loved ones. It was 
a soul, as we .believed, ripe for heaven, for w^hose de- 
parture I could not mourn, except her absence. Yet, 
if the sweetest word in human language be '^ mother/' 
the saddest reflection is " mother is dead.^^ The body 
was laid aw^ay in the family burying ground at Steen^s 



72 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

Creek Cemetery. The tragedy was ended. What a 
change I had experienced in six weeks of time ! Two 
months before lived the family of my affections and my 
hopes^ bereft already of a husband and father; yet all 
the more for this bereavement it was my pleasure to 
serve them. But now my hopes were blighted, my 
plans thwarted^ my family smitten with death. The 
ruin was irreparable. The design of Providence in this 
issue of events I may not know. It was to me then a 
sealed mystery^ and so I presume it will remain un- 
til the light of eternity shall make it known. 

Death is not always the king of terrors. AVhile he 
brings the end of this life, He introduces to another an 
unending life. When we consider the temptations^ trials, 
failure, the sins, the ])ains and the toils to which mortals 
here are subject, we can not count as unfortunate those 
who die sooner than we, especially since we know that it 
is only a question of a few years with all. Mr. Inger- 
soll, in a funeral oration pronounced over his brother's 
grave, gave expression to this striking but comfortless 
sentence: ^^Life is a narrow vale between the cold and 
barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to 
look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only 
answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the voice- 
less lips of ih'^ unreplying dead there comes no word, 
but Jn the night of death hope sees a star, and listen- 
ing, love can hear the rustle of a wing.'^ But I have a 
better hope. All nature teaches me a resurrection, and 
I give full credence to him who said: '^ Thy brother 
shall rise again.'' " I am the resurrection and the life.'' 
To me that is a most suggestive and agreeable phrase, 
so often repeated in the Old Testament, " gathered to 
his fathers." Tha future world is not a dreary vision, 



REFLECTIONS. 73 

but a near reality. AVhen this life is over I snail go in 
quest of kindred spirits; and somewhere in the vast 
domain of the Divine Father I shall hold sweet con- 
verse with father^ mother^ brother^ sister. '^ But 
do you believe in eternal punishment?'^ Yes^ surely, 
the law of cause and effect, which is a law of God and 
prevails, so far as we know, universally, requires that 
whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap. One 
truth in which the language of Scripture is plain, is, 
that in the future world the wicked and the righteous 
alike shall reap the result of their life here, and that 
their state shall be permanent. There are two consid- 
erations which to my mind ameliorate the thoughts of 
eternal punishment. The first is that each lost one will 
suffer the penality of his own sins ; for '' the sting of 
death is sin.^^ The second is, that the punishment is of 
God, w^ho is infinite in love as w'ell as inflexible in jus- 
tice and glorious in holiness. I can confide in the Judge 
of all the universe to do right. The situation of the 
finally impenitent will be suited to their charater, and 
they shall acquiesce in their condemnation. 

I can easily commit to the hands of the Great Judge 
my infant brother. The older was a member of a Bap- 
tist Church, of which for some years he had acted as 
clerk. He was lively and much disposed to fun. He 
was not unaccustomed to lead in religious exercises, and 
I cherish the hope that he w^as a true lover of the Lord 
Jesus Christ. I can entertain no doubt that my mother 
was prepared for the dying hour. I recall one incident 
which it may not be out of place to record here. 
When quite a small boy, I lay one evening on her lap 
as she sat on the horse block in frunt of the gate, and 
she was telling me the story of Jesus of Nazareth — 



74 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

about his mother, who he was, what he did, his miracles, 
his teachings, and how his enemies put him to death. I 
did not comprehend the signification of these things, 
but the outline of the story remained and was recalled 
in after time. Many years afterwards, when I had en- 
tered the ministry, I was one day riding with her in a 
buggy, and conversing along the road, it came in the way 
to speak of my views of the plan of redemption, which I 
had been studying, and when I had finished she said, 
'^ Shuck, you have explained these things to me better 
than I ever had them explained before/^ It is a pleas- 
ing recollection that I may have given some satisfaction 
to one who first, so far as I remember, told me person- 
ally the story of the cross. 

In the absence of other knowledge, I shall hope that 
the darkest experience of my life in the future world 
may be seen to have been not a curse to any one, but a 
blessing. With this hope I join the refrain of the 
apostle Paul. ^^Oh, death, where is thy sting? Oh, 
grave, where is thy victory ?^^ 

" Vital spark of heavenly flame ! 
Quit, oh, quit, this mortal frame ; 
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying ;' 
Oh, the pain, the bliss of dying ; 
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife, 
And languish into life. 

"Hark ! they whisper, angels say. 
Sister spirit, come away ! 
What is this absorbs me quite? 
Steals my senses, shuts my sight ; 
Drowns my spirit, drawls my breath ? 
Tell me, my soul, can this be death ? 

*• The world recedes ; it disappears ! 
Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears ! 



THE TRAGEDY Ei^DED. 75 

With sounds seraphic ring. 
Lend, lend your wings ! I mount, I fly ! 
Oh^ grave, wbere is thy victory ? 
Oh, death, where is thy sting?" 

I turned my face again towards Clinton and the de- 
serted home. No signs of life remained save some do- 
mestic fowls^ which hunted their food around the dwell- 
ing, missing the hand that fed them, but unaware of the 
fate which had come upon the late inmates of that house. 
Oh, wretched fowls! Why linger ye around this for- 
saken place? It was your home, but has not that which 
made it home gone forth to come no more ? And the 
hand of the robber will he pass you by ? But ah ! 
happy fowls, you know no care. You endure no 
trouble. You think of no past, no future, and of no 
responsibility. Therefore I leave you alone to your 
destiny. It was Thursday, about noon, when I discov- 
ered that fever was coming on me, so I returned to 
Brandon by the evening train. I had been invited by a 
cousin, Amanda, and her father, Henry Atkins, in case 
I should take the fever, to make their house my home. 
They lived about six miles from Brandon in the coun- 
try. The invitation was timely and was gratefully ac- 
cepted. Dr. P. H. Fairly was my physician. The 
disease proved to be not typhoid fever, but what is 
popularly called swamp fever. In one week it began to 
abate, and in two weeks more I was able to ride abroad. 
During this illness nothing could exceed the attention of 
my loving kinsfolk. Their kindness will be ever fresh 
in my memory. 

I mounted my horse and was shortly on the road to 
Lawrence, going by where the remnant of the family, 
Jennie and Custus, were staying with their sister, Mrs. 



76 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

Harper. Wednesday I reached the community of Beth- 
any. The brethren were surprised at seeing me^ for a 
rumor of my death had gone in advance. One day was 
spent in visiting, and then I proceeded to Bunker Hill. 
Just at dark Saturday I stepped on the gallery of Bro. 
S. E. Bass, who lived in half a mile of the schoolhouse. 
The family were at supper and I could hear the conver- 
sation. As I stood for a moment I heard Bro. Bass 
ask, '' Do you reckon it is true about his being dead?^' 
and the answer came, '' Yes, Uncle Joe said he heard 
read a postal card from a man who had seen him buried. ^^ 
This was the voice of the man who had taught school at 
Bunker Hill in the spring. A rap on the floor brought 
to the door the friendly face of Mrs. Bass. She was 
much surprised at seeing the dead man standing before 
her a living reality. I was soon seated at the table en- 
joying the hospitality of this country home. 

The next morning I met the brethren of the church, 
which had been constituted a month before in my ab- 
sence. Elders R. R. Turnage and H. Gray ham com- 
posing the presbytery. The church having heard of my 
death, first by rumor and then by what seemed to be 
direct new^s, had called Bro. Turnage for their pastor the 
day before. He had not, however, been informed of 
the call; and now what w^as to be done? The move- 
ment to establish a church there had begun, progressed 
and culminated under my ministry. Though I had not 
urged the constitution of a church, yet the church had 
been constituted, and the membership had, all the while, 
expected me to be their pastor. Added to this w^as my 
own anxiety to preach in the community, for I felt that 
iu this section there had been a door opened to me of 
the Lord. The brethren were unanimous in favoring a 



A PERMANENT FIELD. 77 

re-consideration of the call made the day before and I 
did not prevent them. So I became pastor of the young 
church. I now hastened back to Clinton to make a 
final disposition of my effects that remained there. 
Then I returned to Lawrence to arrange my next year's 
work. In my absence Bethany had given me a unani- 
mous call. The churches of Salem and Leaf River, 
also, had invited me to become their pastor, the latter on 
the recommendation of Bro. Bush, who had resigned. 
In a short time, however, he and I had an interview, 
and he decided to retain the church. This made Beth- 
any, Bunl^er hill, and Salem my field for the next year. 
They formed a triangle, whose base was about twenty 
miles, and either of whose sides was about twenty-five 
miles. To this trio of churches belongs the credit of sup- 
porting whatever work I achieved in South Mississippi. 



CHAPTER X. 

Mt. Carmel, Salem, Williamsburg, Columbia, Poplar Springs. 

In order that I might be near the center of my field I 
removed to Mt. Carmel, leaving the home of Sister 
Robertson, where piety, culture, and simplicity com- 
bined to make it a spot sacred to my memory. I 
engaged board with Mr. Pope, the Justice of the Peace. 
He and his family were members of the Methodist 
Church. He kept the only boarding-house in the place. 
Mr. S. H. Hampton and his brother, w^ho were teaching 
school in the town, boarded here, and lodged in the 
same room with me. 

Mt. Carmel was a village of considerable wealth for 
this country. Eight or ten families lived here. For 
several years a good school had been maintained. There 
was a Methodist Church one mile south and a Presbyte- 
rian Church three miles east. The nearest Baptist 
Church was five miles off. The town was divided in 
sentiment among these denominations, but there was lit- 
tle exemplary piety. No regular services were kept up ; 
the Sunday-school, which had flourished under Rev. Mr. 
Story, had gone entirely down. The town had almost no 
social habits, yet its citizens were high-toned and re- 
spected, and the morals of the town were evidently im- 
proving, for, in the past years, under the reign of King 
Alcohol, it had been lawless, and the center of influence 
for evil. *I preached in town once in awhile to a respect- 
able, but apparently disinterested audience. We got up 

78 



A CHUECH TROUBLE. 79 

a debating society, which proved to be one of the most 
interesting features of my life here. 

In my call to Bethany there had ^been no conditions 
specified by the church. Perhaps^ there was no thought 
of two Sundays a month. I met the church in Janu- 
ary. On my statement that I could not assume the re- 
sponsibility of the church, unless I could give them one- 
half of my time, and that, under the circumstances, I 
thought they might pay me five hundred dollars, they 
agreed to try to do this. The matter of raising the sal- 
ary, however, was postponed for the present. In the 
meantime a difficulty sprang up in the church. Two of 
the members had become involved in a law suit, in 
which each party claimed that the other had made false 
representations under oath. The pastor was charged with 
taking sides, and blamed because he insisted that neither 
party had necessarily made a false statement; that under 
oath one should not assert with absolute certainty, thus, as 
it seems, claiming infallibility, but should affirm according 
to his understanding, his judgment, or the best of his 
knowledge. The trouble was a serious one, almost the 
whole church taking sides, and it had the destructive 
effects common to such difficulties. I should be in favor 
of granting a large and life-long pension to the pastor 
w^ho shall invent a successful method of handling such 
difficulties. Nowhere than here is the rule more true 
that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. 
When an effort was made to raise a subscription for the 
pastor^s salary, only about three hundred dollars could 
be obtained. I took this as an indication of the church's 
sentiment toward me, and talked of resigning. But the 
brethren contended that the best of feeling existed on 
the part of the church, and attributed the short subscrip- 



80 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

tioii to their poverty. The truth is that the majority of 
of the members did not appreciate two Sunday services, 
believing that the church would do just as well and 
even better with only one Sunday as formerly. I give 
it here as my opinion, since formed by experience and 
observation, it is best not to bring the matter of the pas- 
tor's salary publicly before the church, if it can be 
avoided, for it will make the impression on a great many 
people that the preacher's consideration is money, and it 
will have a tendency to defeat the very purpose of his 
work. It is best to arrange the matter privately through 
the deacons or a committee. 

My policy was to make no private canvass of the mat- 
ter, but to have it considered by the church as a whole. I 
am quite sure it is best to have meetings of all the officers of 
the church in which church matters of importance should 
be discussed before they are brought before the body. 

In January also I made my first pastoral visit to Sa- 
lem. I made a circuit around the church, visiting nearly 
all the families, so as to make their acquaintance before 
accepting the call. This church is located four miles 
east of Williamsburg, near a large creek called Oakatoma. 
The membership numbered about one hundred. They 
were not wealthy, but were mostly independent farmers. 

The people were of an exceptionally good class. One 
family predominated in the community, and I have 
heard the church spoken of as the Rogers' Church. In 
all my acquaintances I do not know of a more honorable 
family of people. Education was neglected, so that there 
was little literary culture, and a rather restrained liber- 
ality, but there was plenty of common sense, pure mor- 
ality, genuine piety, and a high sense of honor charac- 
terized their business life. Such disgraces as profanity. 



SALEM AND WILIAMSBUllG. 81 

revellings^ proflgacy and debauchery were almost un- 
known in the community, and were not at all tolerated. 
This high tone of morality was the result of generations 
of careful parental training, under the influence of true 
religious faith and practice. 

In this immediate neighborhood, as well as that of 
Bunker Hill there were no colored people. The 
community was almost entirely Baptistic. The church 
was undeveloped in respect to its working force, but was 
up to the general average. They had been satisfied with 
preaching once a month. The preacher sometimes com- 
ing from a distance of thirty or forty miles. There was not 
a permanent Sunday-school, nor any systematic plan of be- 
nevolence. A protracted meeting once a year was the 
custom. 

My pastorate at Salem was not destined to be marked 
by any sudden attempt at reformation. A ladies^ mission- 
ary society was organized, which did not flourish, and yet 
failed not to develop more interest in missions among 
both men and women. Regular, systematic contribu- 
tions were encouraged. The Sunday-school was fostered, 
and gradually became better ; and a steady, healthy 
growth marked the membership. 

On my way from Mt. Carmel to Salem I must needs 
pass through Williamsburg, the county seat of Coving- 
ton. This was a dry little town of one hundred and 
fifty inhabitants. It was situated in the midst of the 
pine hills. The first time I visited Williamsburg w^as 
on the occasion of a Sunday-school Convention, in June 
or July of the previous year. It was understood that a 
Presbyterian, a Methodist and a Baptist minister were to 
make speeches. I reached [the place about twelve 
o'clock, after riding through a rain for several miles. I 



82 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

was soon marched out to the stand to speak. Mine 
was the only effort. After a barbecue dinner I walked 
out over the grounds on which stood the school-house, 
and a feeling came over me that I should try to exert 
some influence in the surrounding country. 

My first preaching here was in connection with Elder 
Busli, the previous autumn, which has already been re- 
lated. And now, as the town lay on my way to Salem, 
I determined to hold regular services on Sunday after- 
noon as I returned home. 

There was a small Catholic Church building in the 
place, and one Catholic family. The Methodists had an 
organization. The Presbyterians had some influential 
members, but no organized church. 

The Baptist Church was practically dead. There Avas 
no house of worship except the Catholic house. The 
Baptist had formerly worshiped in the first story of a 
liouse built for the double Jpurpose of a Masonic lodge 
and a Baptist Church. But it had been converted into 
a school-house, and the Baptists, through the destruction 
of the county records in the burning of the court-house, 
had lost their legal claim to it. 

Pretty soon reorganization was talked of. The mem- 
bers of the old church met and dissolved. On the same 
day a new church was constituted of such of the old 
members as would go into it, and some new ones. 
Bro., now Elder, J. L. Finly, had just moved here from 
Fannin. He added strength to the new organization. It 
was thought necessary for me to serve as pastor until 
permanent arrangements could be made. 

The church at Bethany moved along smoothly. The 
meetings were enjoyal)le to me at least, and progress was 
made in every department of church work. The Sun- 



COLUMBIA. 83 

day-school was placed under the care of Bro. I. H. 
Mikel. It would be hard to say too much as to the 
zeal and faithfulness of this dear brother, who has since 
passed to his reward. May a double portion of his spirit 
have fallen upon some young man of his community. 
Bunker Hill having been organized on the principle of 
w^ork for Christ, shrank not from duty. Converts were 
added monthly, and the church grew^ rapidly in spirit- 
ual power. Arrangements w^ere commenced to build a 
house of worship which should be completed by the pro- 
tracted meeting in August. 

Ever since my coming into the county I had felt an 
interest in a little town ten miles south of Bunker Hill, 
Columbia, by name, the county seat of Marion. It was 
a beautiful place of two or three hundred inhabitants, 
situated on the east bank of Pearl River. It was the 
business center of the section. The town is thirty miles 
from the railroad, but is regularly visited by steamboats 
in the winter and spring seasons. It boasted of a fine 
school, under the management of Professor Summers ; 
the best school anywhere in the country. 

Columbia is one of the oldest towns in the State. 
But up *to this time (1883) it had never contained a 
church house. The Methodists had an organization, 
maintained regular services, and w^ere now^ making prep- 
arations to build. There had been a small Baptist 
Church constituted there by a Bro. Gough, as I was in- 
formed, but it was short-lived. While I found a good 
many Baptists there, they were totally disorganized, and 
were not dreaming of a Baptist Church. The most of 
them held membership in churches at a distance, but 
some maintained no present connection wath any church. 
The town had been long so largely under Methodist in- 



84 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

fluence that the Baptists were nearly one-half Wesleyans. 
As might have been expected they were exceedingly 
timid about undertaking anything looking towards the 
building up of the Baptist cause. Such a disposition 
was the natural result of their position. Thej had long 
helped to support the Methodist circuit rider, and lent 
half a mind to the recognition of Methodism. Yet there 
were some genuine Baptists in Columbia, though they 
had become as a bottle in the smoke. As is usual the out- 
-of-town people thought that nothing could be made out 
of Columbia, as if the Gospel w^ere not intended for sin- 
ners, and as if the kingdom of Christ were not to be 
established on the ruins of Satan's power. The Lord 
had a work to be done in Columbia ; yea, a work that 
must be done, ^'over all opposition. I held monthly 
meetings here on Saturday or Sunday night, after preach- 
ing at Bunker Hill. In a few months we made an effort 
to organize. One Monday morning we met in the court- 
house, and the following names were enrolled as mem- 
bers of the new church : |Dr. M.^L. Banks and wife, J. 
W. Holleman, W. R. Mobly and wife, W. B. Forten- 
bury, Mrs. E. Fern. Mrs. Fern has since passed over 
the river. In a few weeks the number was doubled. 
Among the number of recruits was the family of a de- 
ceased Baptist minister. Elder Dale, who had been killed 
in a cyclone at Monticello, in the spring of the previous 
year. The family had since moved to Columbia. This 
was a small beginning, but it was a tree of the Lord^s 
planting, and it has since grown and flourished, though 
they are still worshiping in a borrowed house. Colum- 
bia had been a notoriously wicked place. It furnished a 
fair example of what a public spirited and somewhat 
cultivated place may be without the controUintj^ influence 



J. G. CHASTAIN. 85 

of genuine piety. There were, it is true, many pious 
people among the inhabitants. Many generous, excel- 
lent people existed among the Methodists ; but in point 
of real Christian power and influence, the Methodists 
possessed little advantage over their Baptist brethren. 
There were two or three saloons in the town, and drink- 
ing and fighting was the fashion, especially on public 
days. Balls given in the court-house were common and 
popular. Nearly all the young people took part in them 
with zest, cliurch members along with the balance. But 
a better day was dawning for Columbia. The Metho- 
dists were building an elegant house, and the Baptists 
were slowly but surely establishing themselves, and sow- 
ing seed which should germinate and ripen into harvest. 
The following letter received about this time explains 

itself: 

Oxford, Miss. 
Eev. T. S. Powell, Whitesand, Miss. 

Dear Bro. :— By this you will be reassured that I have not for- 
gotten you. I am now attending the University at Oxford, 
studying English under Professor Jolinson. I am highly pleased. 
I regret to hear of your sad bereavements. Surely the Lord is 
dealing very sorely with you ; yet He know^s best. How are you 
pleased with your field ? What does it pay ? Do you ever think 
of going to the Seminary ? I think of preaching a year before I 
go. I need rest. I may go right on ; however, I think I would 
like a country pastorate. Should you wish to go to the Semi- 
nary I might take your field, if agreeable arrangements could be 
made. There are plenty of fields, but I w^ould prefer a country 
pastorate. Bro. Anding is preparing to go to the Seminary. He 
means to go to Louisville in February. I wish you every suc- 
cess. Please write me at Oxford. I am, 

Fraternally, 

J. G. Chastain. 

Bro. Chastain had graduated from Mississippi Col- 
lege the year before. I had been] pleasantly a.ssociated 



86 



FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 



with him during my whole college course, and was glad 
to welcome him to the prospects of this field. The en- 
largement of the work opened the way for another man. 
He was appointed to the Mission Work during the sum- 
mer months, and sustained, partly by the State Mission 
Board, and partly^by the Home Mission Board. A good 
part of his salary, however, was collected on the field. 




J. G. CHASTAIN, 



1 had expected to meet him at the Commencement of 
Mississippi College, but he failed to get there in time, 
and I hastened back to begin a meeting at Poplar 
Springs, three miles south of Mt. Carmel. I had been 
preaching there in a school-house on Saturday before 
the first Sunday for more than a year. Other pastors 
had also held services here. It Avas a thickly settled 
community. There were in the community many wid- 



REVIVALS. 87 

owed ladies whose sons were beginning to take position 
in society and in business. The community was largely 
Baptistic, though it lay under the shadow of Mt. Zion 
Methodist Church. The Baptist element had, of late 
years, been gaining. Those who were members of Bap- 
tist Churches belonged to Bethany, eight miles distant^ 
or to Little Whitesand, nearly as far away. We had de- 
sired to hold a series of meetings here the year before, 
but it was objected to on the ground that it would inter- 
fere with the literary school. It was now an arm of 
Bethany, and was soon to develop into a zealous, Bap- 
tist Church. The community was eager for a revival 
effort. I was joined in a clay or two by Bro. Chastain. 
Tliis w^as his introduction to the country. Quite an in- 
terest was awakened. Christians were revived, strength- 
ened and united. At the close of the meeting, in a little 
creek near by, ten hopetul converts were l)uried with 
Christ, in the likeness of His death, and rose again in the 
likeness of His resurrection, to walk in the newness of life. 
This was the beginning of protracted meetings for the 
season. Bro. Chastain assisted me at Williamsburg, Sa- 
lem and Bunker Hill. At the latter place, especially, 
the meeting was blessed with immediate results. At 
Bethany I had to my assistance also Elder A. V. Rowe, 
the esteemed pastor of Clinton Church. He greatly en- 
deared himself to our people by his Christ-like deport- 
ment and his eloquent, masterly sermons. The Holy 
Spirit was with us in much power, and, as usual, we had 
a most excellent revival. I say as usual, for w^e never 
had any other kind of protracted meeting at Bethany. 
Bro. Rowe will long be remembered with pleasure by 
our people. 
. In the fall I was constrained to hold a meeting at Co- 



88 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

lumbia. I had no help iu the ministry. Yet some of 
the sweetest meetings I ever held was when I felt I was 
alone with God. Then it has seemed to me that the 
consciousness of divine presence remained more con- 
stantly and more clearly upon me. I held m,eetings for 
nearly a week^ having prayer-meetings in the morning, 
in which our Methodist brethren freely took part, and 
preaching at night. It was one of the times when the 
Spirit of God moves mightily upon the people, and 
eh lins them wifeh interest. It was a delightful season, 
leaving its impress on the town as it did also on the soul of 
the preacher. The close of the meeting was one of the 
most impressive baptismal scenes with which I have 
been connected. A quarter of a mile above the town, 
on a curve of the river, where the extended sandy banks are 
shaded by bending willows, which conceal the view from 
the town, I led two trembling female converts far out 
into Pearl River, which at that season was shallow, and, 
at this point, is very beautiful; and in sight of almost 
the whole town performed the rite Avhich made them de- 
clared followers of Christ. This was about the first 
baptism administered there, at least for many years. As 
the scene closed a lady of another persuasion was heard 
to remark, ^^ Yes, and I believe that is the right way, 
too.'^ 

The meeting of Pearl River Association drew nigh. 
It convened at Antioch Church, to the South of Colum- 
bia. Rev. R. R. Turnage was the respected moderator and 
W. J. Armstrong the efficient clerk. Among the pro- 
ceedings of the Association a resolution, in substance, 
as follows, may be found : 

Resolved, That the State Board be requested to appoint a mis- 
mionary to labornext year within the bounds of this Association. 



PEARL RIVER ASSOCIATION. 89 

The appointment was given to Bro. Chastain. The 
Williamsburg and Columbia Churches were turned over 
to him, and the time had arrived for me to make arrange- 
ments for next the vear. 



CHAPTER XI. 



The Custom of Making Annual Calls. — School at Williamsburg. — 
The Pastor as a School Teacher. 



We have reached the autumn of 1883. It is easy to 
look back over the years that have flown, but who can fore- 
cast the future ? Autumn is the season of greatest anxiety 
to country pastors and churches. The present year's work 
about done, the pastor inquires, ^^ Where shall be ray field 
next year?^^ The church, ^^ Who shall be our pastor?^ 
What causes this anxiety ? The churches have a custom 
from whose fetters they can scarcely free themselves, of call- 
ing their ministerial supply annually. This makes the life 
of the preacher precarious. It causes restlessness among 
ministers. Its occasions changes which would not have 
otherwise occurred, and oftentimes leaves churches look- 
ing in vain for a shepherd. Oh, the agony of the next 
meeting, when the church is to make her call ! What 
wrestling will seize the breast of the pastor? What 
commotion will stir the church ? It is not a question of 
life and death; but it is a question of happiness and 
success. This custom is productive of incalculable evils. 
Let the relation of church and pastor be more like that 
of husband and wife, indissoluble accept for the weight- 
iest reasons. It is a relation which God established. It 
is by divine appointment entirely essential to the welfare 
of the church and the progress of the cause of Christ in 
general. Why then should a question of a change be 
raised every twelve months, and with great injury 

90 



THE ANNUAL CALL. 91 

agitated? I confess I can see but one reason and that is 
that members may have a chance once a year to exercise 
their divine right to vote, and sometimes to electioneer 
on this most important question. Oh, liberty ! thou art 
wounded in the house of thy friends! So delicate is 
this relation that all precautions, it would seem, should 
be taken, and all safeguards should be applied to pre- 
serve undisturbed the union of the church and pastor ; 
but instead of this all the valves of discontent are opened, 
and fault-finding and scheming commence their work. 
This, instead of creating a presumption in favor of long 
pastorates, precipitates a change. It may be expected 
there will always be dissatisfied parties, and it can hardly 
ever be expected that any minister will give uni- 
versal satisfaction; but disaffection, which would not 
otherwise have been heard of, will grow rank in the 
breach which the annual call of the pastor lays open. 

What causes have prevailed to fix the custom of the 
annual call? Are the interests involved so trivial that 
the relation may be dissolved at every recurrence of the 
annual season? What has brought this high and holy 
responsibility so low that it has come to be regarded as of 
little more importance than hiring a field hand to make 
a crop? I can confess it seems to me that the custom 
of making a yearly call threatens to render ineflFective 
the pastoral relation. How can a minister, in any true 
sense be a pastor of a people whom he does not know ? 
To be a pastor indeed, he must be acquainted with the 
people and their wants. He must be in sympathy with 
them, and they must feel his sympathy. He must have 
a hold on their aflPection, so as to guide them rightly in 
spiritual things. This implies not a temporary con- 
nection, but permanent oversight and care. I submit 



92 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

that one cause which has helped to fix the custom of the 
yearly call^ is tlie erroneous conception which has pre- 
vailed of the pastor's office and duties. It has become 
common in certain parts to look upon preaching as the 
one work of the pastor. Churches talk of their '^ sup- 
ply/^ and they mean by this term the one who comes and 
preaches from the pulpit. In many places the members 
feel that, provided they have some one to preach for 
them at the church house, it is all that is needed. And 
as the preaching is the one service considered, the '^ sup- 
ply ^^ can readily be changed without interference with 
the routine of church work. The living influence of the 
pastor as a power for good is too often not considered, 
and also the importance of his attention to individual 
members of the community. It is not claimed that this 
is the only cause of so frequent pastoral changes. The 
preaclier himself is not infrequently the cause, by failing, 
from lack of proper preparation and devotion to duty, to 
meet the demands of his clmrge, and, not uncommonly, 
by looking for a better place which, when found, often 
turns out to be no better. 

The evils of frequent changes of pastors are plain 
enough. It unsettles the whole church business, and 
many a time the change is not for the better. Besides 
this we must consider the evils it inflicts on the minister, 
necessitating a removal with its unavoidable expense, 
the breaking up of cherisiied associations, attachments 
and sympathies, and the placing him in another field for 
a new trial. It brings the church to a halt, and fre- 
quently leaves it standing a long time without pastoral 
care. Then the work stops and interest in everything 
declines. 

While it is not claimed that this custom is the one 



ITS EVILS. 93 

cause of so frequent changes in the pastorate^ yet it is a very 
fruitful cause, and should be discontinued. No arrange- 
ments can ever be made which will be entirely satisfac- 
tory, but when an arrangement is made let it be perma- 
nent. Call for no specified time, but call permanently. 

The bone of contention at Bethany was the two 
Sunday services. In the call that was given this fall 
the church proposed one fourth of my time and two 
hundred and fifty dollars. As I was unwilling to as- 
sume the responsibility of so large and diversified a con- 
gregation for so small of part of my time, I declined 
the call. The church then chose Bro. Chastain, but as 
he preferred the mission work of the Association, he did 
not accept. At the next meeting my name was with- 
drawn, but a large number voted for me, and on a 
second ballot they were in the majority. A motion was 
made to renew the former proposition. I could not 
doubt but that a greater part of the church desired me 
to continue as their pastor, and I was certainly anxious 
to maintain my relations with them. The difference be- 
tween us had reference to the time they should pay me 
for, since I was not then willing to take the care of the 
church at any amount of pay for one Sunday. So I 
proposed as a compromise that I would serv^e them half 
my time for three hundred dollars, provided they w^ould 
allow me to teach school, and on this we agreed. I 
knew it was not a desirable arrangement for the church, 
yet it seemed the best that could be made under the cir- 
cumstances. 

My other churches renewed the arrangements of the 
previous year without any noteworthy difference. 

I now began to look about for a place to open a 
school. I visited the community of EawPs Springs near 



94 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

the New Orleans and Meridian Railroad^ which had re- 
cently been built. In this community are situated cer- 
tain springs that are somewhat famous for the medicinal 
properties of their water. I found that a new church 
had been constituted in the community under the labors 
of Eld. H. B. Cooper, and a new house was going up on 
the bank of Mineral Creek. I made some pleasant and 
valuable acquaintances but had no success in founding a 
school ; they were already supplied with a teacher. I 
was invited by some gentlemen at Williamsburg to un- 
dertake a school there. It had for a long time been con- 
sidered a good opening. Covington County had been 
able to boast of but a single school of any permanence, 
the one at Mt. Carmel, and that was on the decline. It 
had been given this year to Prof Woodward of Vicksburg. 
Thirty miles distant was Columbia, where Mr. Summers 
had a flourishing school. , About the same distance was 
Ellisville where Eld. J. T. Barrett Avas teaching with 
success. A fact which at the time was unknown to 
me, Prof, now Eld. Dixon was just opening a school 
twelve miles southeast, and about the same distance to 
the east, Eld. J. N. Walker, another Baptist minister 
who had recently moved into the county was beginning a 
school; so that there were now schools all around and I 
was shut up to the community of Williamsburg for 
patronage. Some of the citizens here were extremely 
anxious, and ready to make any sacrifice to secure an 
efficient teacher. My most reliable supporters were 
Evan Hall, County Clerk, and T. C. Blount, a merchant. 
I moved to town, engaged board with Mr. McCallum 
the hotel keeper, a very excellent gentleman, and com- 
menced a school in hope of building it up. In addition 
to the competition mentioned above, the following con- 



SCHOOL TEACHING. 95 

siderations made against the school. (1) An uncomfort- 
able house which rendered the school a most disagreeable 
place in bad weather. (2) A lack of public spirit and 
interest in education among most of the citizens. Only 
a few earnestly supported the school. (3) My own in- 
terest was largely absorbed in something else. I had re- 
solved to neglect my churches just as little as possible. 
If either should suffer I preferred it should be my 
school. Salem was near by, but Bethany was nineteen 
miles off. Bunker Hill was a little farther on, so that 
it was necessary to leave the town on Friday evening, 
and I could not be there at all on Sunday to mingle 
with the people. Moreover, I could not consent to re- 
lax my general studies. J laid in a supply of books on 
science, history, poetry, with some Greek and Latin 
classics. (4) My tuition had been made full high. My 
patrons allowed me to fix it to suit myself and I made 
it high enough, and too liigh for some people. I had 
never been noted for sociability, and now the daily care 
of the school-room and other things with my studies 
made me as exclusive as I well could be. Oh, sensi- 
tiveness! why dost thou scourge me so? But what posi- 
tion is like that of teaching schoool? You come into 
daily contact with the parents whose children you 
teach. You are playing on harps of a thousand strings. 
Who knows what the people are saying about you? 
What will Mr. A. say of your treatment of his son the 
other day ? Why, even your pupils criticise you, and 
much more the great public. If you lend yourself to 
catch every criticism which may be made, and keep 
your mind at work conjuring up others, of which no- 
body else has ever thought, you will surely live in hot 
water. But oh, sensitive teacher, throw aside your 



96 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

timid apprehensions. Mingle freely with the people; 
show them that you appreciate them. Acknowledge 
your failures, by meeting on a common plane of hu- 
manity, and do not expect to make yourself perfect and 
revered by living the life of a hermit. Live and move 
among the people. Let them not feel that you are a 
selfish, uncaring and unfeeling critic. Show charity for 
them and they will be charitable to you. 

A question comes up here which I can not pass over 
without discussion — namely, the propriety of pastors 
teaching school. It is a well understood business prin- 
ciple that one, as a rule, can not succeed in two diflFer- 
ent callings. To attain to fair success in any business 
in which there is much competition demands one's whole 
attention. A man will commonly do better for himself 
in the long run to devote his efforts exclusively to that 
business or pursuit for which his talents best suit him, 
rejecting all temporary indiicements to divide his ener- 
gies. The pastor who engages in teaching forfeits to a 
great extent the support of his church. The members wall 
take note of the fact that he is no longer giving himself 
exclusively to the ministry. They realize that he is not 
giving them his whole time. Hence, they will feel un- 
der less obligation to contribute to his support, and in 
proportion as he loses their support financially, he has 
lost their moral and spiritual support. If the members 
feel that the pastor depends entirely upon them, and is 
devoting himself fully to their service, they may be in- 
duced to give freely and generously, but on no other 
consideration. Moreover, there is a popular sentiment 
that a minister, of all men, is not allowed to seek after 
the wealth of the world. Let him begin school teach- 
ing and many can not look at in any other w^ay than 



WHY A PASTOR SHOULD NOT TEACH. 97 

that he is doing it as a money making business. A re- 
spected ^ brother once said to me^ '^ I think it is better 
if a pastor is going to do any kind of secular work for 
him to farm/^ There is reason in the remark as it ap- 
plies to a country pastor ; for^ in this occupation he will 
not seem to have the advantage of his brethren in the 
matter of making money ; and^ besides, even a preacher 
is allowed to have a home. But there is in my mind a 
more weighty reason against the pastor teaching school, 
and that is the secularizing influence it will have on his 
people. Let the pastor hamper himself with any 
w^orldly pursuit, and in vain will he seek to inspire his 
people with zealous and self-sacrificing devotion. Ex- 
ample is more potent than precept. Your opinion 
may be very correct, your advice may be most excellent ; 
but unless your conduct corresponds you can not influ- 
ence me. Yet, as all rules have exceptions, and excep- 
tions prove the rule, it may sometimes be necessary for 
a preacher to teach school. It is any man's first duty to 
provide for his family. 

The reason on which a minister has a right to expect 
and demand support is, the universal obligation for a 
man to live by his labor. A preacher is not an excep- 
tion to the rule laid down to Adam ; *^ In the sweat of 
thy face shalt thou eat bread till thou return unto the 
ground ;^^ and the special kind of work by which a 
preacher is honorably to make a living is stated in I. 
Cor. ix. 13, 14: '^Know ye not that they which minis- 
ter about sacred things, eat of the things of the temple, 
and they which wait upon the altar have their portion 
with the altar.'^ Even so did the Lord ordain that they 
which proclaim the gospel should live of the gospel. 

-J. N. Burkett. 



&8 ^tVB YEA^S IN SOlTTIt MlSSlSSlPl'I. 

Any man, whether lawyer, doctor, merchant, mechanic, 
farmer, or preacher has the right to give away his labor, 
provided he can afford to do so; and there may arise 
occasions when he ought to do it ; but to claim that he 
has no right to demand remuneration, is to take away 
the means of honorable support, and make him a de- 
pendant, a vagrant, and a beggar. Experience has 
proven that, as a general thing, when a man leaves the 
question of his support to the option of other people, he 
goes destitute. As to how much a preacher ought to 
receive, will depend on the worth of the teacher, the 
ability of the church, and other circumstances. 

This states the principles which should be followed. 
But if a minister is not sufficiently renumerated to in- 
sure the support of those dependent on him, he is bound 
to provide for them in some other way. The day has 
been when this duty was sadly neglected. Ministers 
felt that they ought to go and preach, expecting nothing, 
and they did so, inspired with a holy zeal to save souls 
and to honor their Master; and an undutiful public did 
not feel bound to support them. Thus, while revered 
ministers have gone forward, animated by the worthiest 
motives, their families have been left destitute ; their 
bright sons and lovely daughters have had to take a 
lower seat. 

But it may be said that this exception can not apply 
to young unmarried preachers. But young ministers are 
rarely free from responsibilities on account of near rela- 
tives, and while they have no family at present, they have, 
at least, a future prospect, and no man is justified in as- 
suming such responsibilities without assurance of tem- 
poral support. Besides, it can not be of any real bene- 
fit to a church to pay her pastor less than a fair re- 



SUNDRY ENTERPEISES. 99 

muneration, regardless of his circumstances. ^^ The 
laborer is worthy of his hire/^ As for me, I had left 
college with a considerable debt of borrowed money. 
A brother and a sister looked to me for support, and 
the Theological Seminary was still in view. I could 
not think of addressing myself to life's work without 
every possible advantage. 

Much good can be. done in the school-room. The 
teacher may bind the young to him, and often families 
may, by this means, be reached who could not other- 
wise be influenced. Indeed, it may sometimes occur 
that this will be the very best way of building up a re- 
ligious interest, and school teaching may for a time be 
followed without any of the evils above enumerated. 
But it must be borne in mind that this is the exception 
and not the rule, and the preacher should consider 
whether he will not lose more than he will gain. 

My school at Williamsburg remained small. It never 
drew to itself popular and universal patronage. With 
the exception of a month lost on account of measles it 
continued uninterrupted to the end. As I had to leave 
town at the close of each week, I was never present to 
engage with the people in worship. There was preach- 
ing regularly by the Baptist missionary pastor, also by 
the Methodist circuit rider, and occasionally by the Pres- 
byterian clergyman. On Wednesday nights, at the 
schoolhouse, we kept up a prayer-meeting. I have often 
gone there to meet only one or two brethren. We hoped 
that the example which we were then setting might be 
followed in other days. 

The one pleasing recollection of my work that 
year is that the school did not secularize me. I 
strove not to neglect my churches, and labored continually 



100 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

to advance the benevolent enterprises of the denomina- 
tion. 

A kind of meeting which proved of much interest 
and profit was the mass-meeting. These meetings were 
held on the fifth Sunday, and sometimes on Friday and 
Saturday before. In them subjects pertaining to Chris- 
tian work and doctrine were discussed. They not only 
afforded instruction, but encouraged, also, social inter- 
course between different communities, and were a per- 
petual stimulus to Christian duty. 

The Church of Antioch at Poplar Springs was con- 
stituted May 31st of this year (1884) with 34 members. 
The officers were : N. C. Hathorn and N. L. McNeese, 
deacons ; C. S. Brinson, treasurer ; John Baker, clerk. I 
had been preaching here for two years on Saturday be- 
fore the first Sunday ; Bro. Chastain had also kept an 
appointment here for si^ months. As the pastor of 
Bethany of which this had been a recognized arm, the 
new church desired me to continue to supply them for 
the remainder of the year, since they were under cer- 
tain financial obligation to the pastor of the mother- 
church. 

The new church began immediately to build a house 
of worship. The only objection to their plan was that 
the building was too small. 

About this time, also, a house of worship was begun 
at Williamsburg. The members were poor and not much 
disposed to undertake the work of building, but the 
pastor urged it, and he and myself, in order to insure 
success, agreed to put each one hundred dollars into 
it, and to risk collecting these amounts from the pub- 
lic generosity. It was necessary for me to borrow 
my hundred, and my worthy confrere, who happened to 



A NEW ASSOCIATION SUGGESTED. 101 

be flush at that time, made me the loan. I succeeded 
in collecting about ninety dollars. The money ad- 
vanced was turned over to Deacon J. R. Webster, with 
the understanding that he would build the house ; and 
he did build it, assuming the rest of the responsibility. 
Soon the Methodists followed suit and built a good 
house of worship. This is one time we got ahead of 
the Methodists. 

I had arranged to spend my leisure time this summer 
at RawPs Springs, about thirty miles southeast of Will- 
iamsburg. I made the house of Bro. B. F. Rawls 
my home. While stopping there I cbanced to attend, 
a few days, the protracted meeting of the new church, 
which had been called Central. It was here that I first 
met the pastor. Eld. H. B. Cooper. The railroad from 
Meridian to New Orleans had just been built. The 
Baptist State Mission Board was planting churches 
along the line of the road. Elder Cooper was one of 
their men. He was the entering wedge in this section 
to the splendid work which has since been achieved un- 
der Elders Ray, Robinson, Barret and others. 

At the close of the meeting at Central, a motion was 
made bv Deacon Carter to call a council of the churches 
that were situated between Pearl and Leaf Rivers, to 
meet at Leaf River church, at the time of the August 
mass-meeting, for the purpose of considering the pro- 
priety of forming a new association. This move had 
been talked of for many years and was now beginning 
to take shape. 



CHAPTER XII. 

Formaticn of the New Association. — The Question, How to Main- 
tain Church Prosperity ? ConMdered. 

I hastened back from the Mississippi Baptist Conven- 
tion, in July, in conipaiiy with Bro. Bush, to commence 
a meeting at Salem. We reached the church on Sunday 
morning. Brethren J. N. Walker and J. L. Finley had 
commenced the meeting on Saturday before. We put in 
a week^s solid work. It was not, however, a time of 
harvesting. None were added to the church. At Bun- 
ker Hill I was assisted by Brethren R. R. Turnage and 
J. R. Carter, a young minister of Pearl River Associa- 
tion. Several were added as the immediate results of the 
meeting. At Bethany I again expected Elder A. V. 
Rowe, of Clinton, but on account of sickness in his fam- 
ily he failed to come, and I secured the assistance of 
Elder Bush. One of the best meetings I ever took part 
in was the result. 

On Saturday, before the fifth Sunday in August, oc- 
curred the mass meeting of the Pearl River Association. 
Brethren Gambrell, editor of the Baptist Record, and 
Ball, Secretary of the State Mission Board, were with us. 
The meeting was one of unusual interest. The subject 
of most concern to some of us was the formation of the 
new Association. The following are some of the rea- 
sons for this movement : Two churches in the north- 
eastern part. Leaf River and Salem, had formerly be- 
longed to Ebenezer Association, but as that body was con- 

102 



PEARL LEAF ASSOCIATION. 



103 



nected with the General Association of South Missis- 
sippi, these two churches withdrew and united with the 
Pearl River Association, that they might co-operate with 
the State Convention. This made the territory of the 
latter association quite extensive on both sides of Pearl 
River. The new church at Center desired to co-operate 
with the Convention, and there was no Association of 




H. M. LONG. 



the same mind near at hand. There was an extensive 
scope of country lying between Pearl and Leaf Rivers, 
which w^as well nigh destitute of religious advantages. 
The Presbyterian churches, which had once been strong, 
were evidently declining. The Protestant Methodists, 
who had several churches in this district, were likewise 
retrograding rather than going forward, and the Episco- 
pal Methodists, in the same section, appeared to be in a 



104 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

state of decadence, while there were some communities 
almost entirely destitute, where it was thought Baptist 
churches might be built up and maintained. The new As- 
sociation would cultivate this field ; moreover, the 
churches east of Pearl River were not, in any special 
way, identified wath those west of that stream. And 
finally must be added the argument of convenience. 
There were no reasons urged against the project, except 
apprehensions that it might not be for the best. So the 
messengers decided to advise their respective churches 
at the coming session of the Association to withdraw for 
the purpose of forming a new body. 

On Saturday, before the second Lord^s Day in Sep- 
tember, the Pearl River Association convened with Hep- 
zibah Church, in Lawrence County. The following 
churches asked letters of dismission : Bethany, Bunker 
Hill, Salem and Leaf River. The delegates from these 
churches designated Salem, Covington County, as the 
place for organizing the new Association, and Saturday, 
before the first Sunday in November, as the time. 

At the time appointed the churches withdrawing from 
the Pearl River Association, with Central from the 
Chicksahay, and the newly constituted churches of An- 
tioch and Williamsburg, met and were organized into the 
Pearl Leaf Association. A subscription of one hundred 
and fifty dollars was raised to employ a missionary. 
Elder T. D. Bush was the man selected, and engaged for 
one-fourth of his time to labor in destitute communities. 

The previous year's arrangement was renewed with all 
my churches. 

I here feel that I must wander a little from the road. I 
have frequently experienced when traveling a long jour- 
ney, that it was refreshing to turn aside for a few min- 



AN IMPORTANT QUESTION. 105 

iites for rest and meditation. What shall be the inter- 
jection which I shall throw in here? What the subject 
of our musings? We are in the midst of a little move- 
ment down here in the pine woods ; new churches are 
springing up in quick succession — houses of worship 
are being built. Old relations are breaking up and a 
new Association is forming. 

Suppose we take this for the subject of our meditation : 
How to Maintain a High State of Life in the Churches. 
You have noticed that when a new church is constituted 
under favorable auspices it goes forward for a few years 
with great momentum — like a man jumping after he has 
taken a running start, or like a rubber ball which has 
just received a blow from a bat. Now the problem is, 
how to keep the church running the same way ? After 
a year or two, you know, it is almost sure to decline. 
The enthusiasm will fall off; coldness will creep in and 
lie down. How shall this be prevented ? Or, if it is an 
old church, partially paralyzed, how may it be perma- 
nently revived? Well, now, it is evident that when the 
church is started, everybody is interested. The very 
novelty of the thing, the enthusiasm aroused in the be- 
ginning of the new enterprise will enlist all the mem- 
bers; everybody is willing to work; there is no oppor- 
tunity for indifference ; moreover, all are in a good 
humor. If Bro. Simms has anything against Bro. 
Johnson it must be overlooked now, for fear it would in- 
jure the new enterprise. All are rejoicing in the new, 
sweet fellowship of brethren. The world sees it and 
smiles, and lends a hand to help, and members come 
flocking in. But do n't you almost know that this de- 
lightful condition is not going to continue? Something 
is almost sure to happen that will interfere. Can any 



106 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

steps be taken to prevent this downfall and backsliding, 
which is otherwise sure to come ? Well, I lay it down 
as a truth which can not be successfully contradicted, 
that the same causes which have produced these good feel- 
ings and this happy condition should keep them up; the 
members must be kept enlisted. Do n't let them think 
that as soon as the church is constituted, the house built, 
and ^* we have called our supply,'^ the work is all done, 
and ^^ we will lay back on our oars and let the church 
run itself.'^ Here is the trouble. The work has just be- 
gun, we have just got in shape to work. It may be that 
we have been working all this time for ourselves, and 
now we are ready to work for Christ. ^' Ah,'^ the mem- 
bers say, '^ we are fixed so we can have meeting close to 
home. We are all right.'' Church-house finished, 
preacher called, nothing more to do. This I fear is not 
work for Christ. If we are to work for Him, there is 
no end — no rest till death. 

It is a matter of prime importance to keep everybody 
busy, otherwise ih^ church is in danger of retrograding. 
And it must be said that the whole existence of some 
churches is employed in retrogression, with an occa- 
sional revival. Keep at the work all the time to bring 
sinners to Christ. Keep the prayer- meeting warm. 
Look after the wretched, the out-casts, the needy. Bring 
the children to Christ. Lead the young to the Saviour. 
Cheer the old and afflicted with the comforts of religion. 
Seek out and console the broken-hearted. Take up fre- 
quent collections. Serve the Lord by bringing oiFerings 
to His treasury. Teach all the people to give, for the 
Lord loveth a cheerful giver, and the liberal soul shall 
be made fat. Many are the benevolent enterprises in 
Christ's^kingdom which appeal to us for support. We 



SOME PRACTICAL. INJUNCTIONS. 107 

are the Lord^s stewards, to whom He has intrusted His 
goods. Hence, we should make the people familiar with 
the contribution box. They will soon see that it is a 
proper instrument of service. Organize such societies 
among the members as are necessary and practical, and 
by all means keep everybody at work. Your church 
should be all the time gaining strength, and become 
lively, prosperous and happy. 



^- CHAPTER XIII. 



School Teaching at Mt. Carmel.— Church Sociables and Festivals. 

I had been solicited during the summer by one man^ 
William Eutlege, to undertake a school at Mt. Carmel. 
I had alv\ays considered this a hard place for religion, 
especially for the Baptist faith. While I had some 
good friends here, I had no expectation of meeting any 
encouragement in my evangelistic work. - Yet the com- 
munity was near the center of my field, and I was anx- 
ious to get hold of the people, and if possible win them 
to me and to Christ. 

A few years before there had been a fine school here. 
The educational interest seemed to have received an im- 
pulse under the teaching of Mr. John Watson. He was 
succeeded by Mr. Story, a Presbyterian minister, who 
for two years kept a fine school. His successor was 
Mr. Hodge, another Presbyterian preacher. Under 
him the school seems to have commenced to decline. 
The next year Mr. S. H. Hampton, a graduate of the 
University at Oxford, Miss., was employed. He had 
a very good school, but it never regained its former 
success under Story. The next year Mr. Woodward, 
from Yicksburg, was engaged. The measles interfered 
about the middle of the term, and the school closed ; 
and now, in the absence of any other applicant, I secured 
a respectable number of pupils, and everything looked 
favorable for a successful term. 

I had sojourned here a while two years before, and 

108 , 



THE OPENING OF THE SCHOOL. 109 

now I returned to come into nearer relationship with 
the people of the place. At the same time a protracted 
meeting was be^n at Mt. Zion Methodist Church, one 
mile from town. Rev. Mr. McClaurin was the circuit 
rider. He was assisted by Evangelist Hopper. It be- 
came a meeting of much interest. About forty united 
with the church. 

My school filled up with lovable and teachable chil- 
dren. I have never seen children more well-bred. I 
was reminded of the words of Napoleon to the British 
sailor, as given in CampbelPs poem, ^^A noble mother 
must have bred so brave a son.^^ These children spoke 
much for the mothers of Mt. Carmel. The people of 
the town were intelligent and high-minded. The ladies 
were models of Christian womanhood. The men de- 
ported themselves toward me as gentlemen. There were 
no regular religious services held in town, not evena Sun- 
day-school had been in successful progress for some 
time. The ladies, among whom Mrs. Magee was con- 
spicuous as a Christian worker, had made some efforts to 
keep a Sunday-school, but they had not been successful. 
There was little commingling of the people in social in- 
tercourse. Every one seemed to understand pretty well 
the rule of attending to his own business. I engaged 
board with Mr. L. L. Benson, whose wife was a mem- 
ber of Bethany church. I never had a more agreeable 
home. A back room in the school-house was my lodg- 
ing place. 

I now devoted myself to the duties of the school- 
room and my churches. My situation was highly favor- 
able to solitude, and I made the most of it. Situated 
in a naturally unsociable community, compelled to ab- 
sent myself from Friday evening till Sunday night, with 



110 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

a lodging-place away off in the school-house, and with 
free access to unlimited woods, where long ridges of 
pine were separated by valleys of richer growth, all in- 
viting to retirement and rambling, the reader may im- 
agine what the people of Mt. Carmel found to be a 
reality. I spent more of my leisure time communing 
with inanimate nature than with human beings, and 
arose sometimes from communion with nature to inter- 
course by faith with Him who speaks loudly through 
the denizens of the groves and the forests. I enjoyed 
little of the society of men except my pupils and my 
churches on Sunday. Left alone in my room, sur- 
rounded by my books, with the open woods before me, 
I became almost a hermit. Yet I was not oblivious to 
the benefits of social intercourse. Though not disposed 
to seek society, I yet felt the need of social culture for 
my own happiness, and- conceived the project of intro- 
ducing church sociables in the communities where I 
preached. I knew that such meetings were held in some 
churches in other parts of the country, and I was con- 
vinced of the necessity of them. I made the suggestion 
to Bethany church. My proposition was to have a 
gathering of all the community who would attend at 
the church house, whether they were members of the 
church or not; to have a nice dinner on the ground, 
and to spend the day in social intercourse. A short 
service was suggested, consisting of songs and an ad- 
dress by the pastor, with perhaps a closing religious exer- 
cise in the afternoon. Such a meeting, it seemed to me, 
would produce good results. It would give the pastor 
a chance to meet the people together and have a word 
with them. It would form acquaintances and cultivate 
friendly feelings among neighbors. It would tend to 



SOCIAL EKTERTAINMENTS. Ill 

correct the wrong impression of many young people that 
religion allows no enjoyment, or at least contributes to no 
pleasure. My proposition, however, was never carried 
out, and the experiment in this community remained 
untried. Not a few of the members thought it ill- 
advised. 

The question of social entertainments is an important 
one. It has not received the attention from Christian 
workers that its importance demands. The custom 
among Baptist churches, especially in the country, has 
been to let entertainments look out for themselves, and 
they have commonly done so to the detriment of good 
manners and morals. A belief is not wanting among 
many that all kinds of social entertainments are produc- 
tive of evil. This is one extreme; the other extreme 
approves of all kinds of entertainments, finding no evil 
in any. It is possible for any persons under the spirit 
of religious devotion to form severe ascetic habits and 
notions of life, and to be prepared to condemn all meet- 
ings held simply for social and friendly intercourse. 
But they will never succeed in bringing around to their 
way of thinking either the world or the church, espe- 
cially the large body of young people who find pleasure 
in society as well as in the service of religion. 

Human nature demands society. Youth will have it, 
if not under right circumstances, then under wrong cir- 
cumstances. It is here that we have signally failed to 
hold our youug people while the enemies of religion have 
gotten up parties, drawn to them the children despite all 
opposition from parents, and have captivated young 
hearts. The necessity of social meetings can hardly be 
questioned when we consider the strong tendencies of 
human nature that way. The only question is, ^^ What 



112 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

kind of meetings shall we have?'' I must confess that 
I have never been favorable to parties gotten up espe- 
cially for young men and young ladies, whether they 
were dancing parties, play parties, or so-called conver- 
sation parties. I could never see the necessity of such 
meetings. It has always seemed to me that voung peo- 
ple have abundant opportunity to get together without 
holding parties especially for that purpose. I should 
not favor any social gatherings where old people and 
children are excluded, or where their happiness and 
comfort are not- considered. The general sentiment of 
Christendom has proscribed the dance, and it is my 
opinion that the common play party, or social, especially 
for the young people, is a first cousin and should share 
the same condemnation. What I would advise, then, 
are social gatherings for all the people, whether the 
gatherings partake of the nature of a church sociable, 
Sunday-school picnic, literary entertainment, or old- 
fashioned dining or tea party. 

I am impressed that the leading church workers of 
every community should have an eye to arrange such 
meetings and to see that they are conducted creditably 
and with proper order. In my judgment they should 
be considered a necessity and not an out-of-the-way affair. 

Directly connected with this question is that of 
church entertainments to raise money. 

All that I have said above in favor of church socia- 
bles has been intended for sociables simply, without the 
idea of raising money, which introduces a new feature 
and makes it an entirely different question. Of church 
entertainments for raising money, I have never been 
able to approve for several reasons, some of which I 
will here give : 



THE SORIPTUEE PLAK OF RAISING MONEY 113 

(1) The Bible lends no encouragement to this way of 
raising means for the Lord^s cause. Tlie Scriptures 
enjoin giving from motives of love and gratitude, giv- 
ing freely. Said Christ, " Freely ye have received, 
freely give.^^ Again : ^^ Give and it shall be given to 
you good measure; pressed down, shaken together, 
running over, shall they give into your bosom. '^ The 
appeal should be directed to the heart and conscience 
and founded on considerations of duty. Appeals may 
be made on the special demands of the situation, the 
relation of the parties concerned, and sympathy for fellow- 
men ; and it is perfectly allowable to excite to emulation 
by mention of what others have done, or to stimulate 
pride by reference to what the same parties have done 
at otlier times. The apostle Paul made appeals on such 
considerations. 

But I have found nothing in all the Bible which 
lends favor to the custom of raising funds for religion 
by entertainments. How think ye the apostle would 
have responded to a grand entertainment at Ephesus to 
assist the poor saints at Jerusalem, or to a church festi- 
val at Phillipi, to raise money for the missionary cause. 
This method does not comport with his simple plan, 
^^Upon the first day of the week let each one of you lay 
by him in store as he may prosper, that no collections be 
made when I come.^' Methinks the apostle would 
have broken out in something like the following, '' Is it 
necessary for some one to hire you to give money to the 
Lord's cause? Is the love of Christ become so weak 
in you that you must be coaxed by the gratification of 
your carnal appetites to fill up the Lord^s treasury? 
Who has turned you aside so quickly from the sincere 
service of the Lord Jesus Christ ? for I declare unto 



114 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

every one of you that I delivered to you no such gospel !'^ 
Let it suffice on this point that the Scriptures always 
and everywhere exhort and command to give, 

(2) It fosters a dangerous spirit, namely materialism. 
The tendency of religion has ever been in this direction. 
Christianity, in its pure character, is essentially spiritual. 
The contrast in this respect between Christianity and 
Judaism was indicated by Jeremiah in the famous proph- 
ecy of the new covenant. ^^ I will put my law in their 
inward parts, and in their heart will I write it, and I will 
be their God, and they shall be my people.^^ Our Sa- 
viour, in conversation with the Samaritan woman, em- 
phasized the same contrast between the old dispensation 
and the new : ^^ Jesus saith unto her, ^ Woman, believe 
me, the hour cometh when neither in this mountain nor 
in Jerusalem shall ye worship the father. But the hour 
cometh, and now is, when the true worshipers shall wor- 
ship the father in spirit and in truth.^ ^^ 

I have spoken above of Christianity in its pure char- 
acter ; for, let it be borne in mind, that four-fifths of 
the Christianity in the world is badly adulterated ; and 
this has been true almost ever since the apostles. 

This is an age especially strong in its tendencies to- 
ward materialism. If it be claimed that this is an age 
of liberality, be it so ; yet is there not danger that this 
liberality may proceed on materialistic ideas? Not all 
offerings made to God, or in the name of religion, are 
acceptable. Cain offered the fruits of the soil and was 
rejected. A prophet of God was constrained to protest 
against the shallowness of the worship of his day in 
these words : " To what purpose is the multitude of 
your sacrifices, saith the Lord ? When you come to ap- 
pear before me, who hath required this at your hand to 



MATERIALISTIC TENDENCIES. 115 

tread my courts? Bring no more vain oblations; in- 
cense is an abomination unto me; new moon and Sab- 
bath, the calling of assemblies, I can not away with/^ 
Could we behold the heathen temples of Japan, India, 
and China, many of them would mock the costliness of 
our churches. Pagan temples have always rivaled in 
splendor and magnificence any buildings dedicated to 
the worship of the true God. The richest cathedrals 
raised to the worship of God in this country are not of 
the most orthodox or spiritual. Do not heathen relig- 
ions and the most corrupt forms of Christianity propa- 
gate their faith by the same or similar organizations as 
we? The mere facts that we build many and commo- 
dious church houses, that we have a great following, or 
that we propagate our faith are not of themselves proof 
that we are advancing the true cause of Christ, or that 
we are saving the world. Christianity was originally 
the simplest of religions. Its early followers met to- 
gether in private houses or rented halls, continuing in 
prayer and other religious services. The essential thing 
was to be a disciple of Jesus of Nazareth. 

But soon that simple religion was arrayed in the com- 
bined apparel of Judaism and Paganism. Seated on the 
throne of the Csesars it became the patron of all that 
was truly worldly. 

Constantine, in the fourth century, might have done 
a greater thing for the world than making Christianity 
the State religion, and securing for it worldly patronage, 
if he had set himself to correct the errors in faith and 
forms which had already in his days made great progress, 
and had thus contributed his influence to promote spir- 
itual religion. 

Mammon easily holds his prestige as the god of the 



116 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

world, and in this age when everything is reduced to a 
business basis, he seeks to make Christianity also a pay- 
ing business. I have known camp-meetings held appa- 
rently for the purpose of making money, and they were 
not only countenanced, but generously patronized ; and 
if I am not mistaken this element prevails in much of 
the religious service of to-day. The popular goddess 
that shares the throne of mammon in our age, is aesthet- 
ics. All the world seems eager to do her homage. Art, 
science, business, fashionable society and religion, all 
are laid under contribution to glorify taste. Money is 
eagerly raised. It makes not much difference how or 
by what means, provided we attain our preference — re- 
fined materialism. In the churches adoration to this 
splendid deity, as is to be expected, spirituality is made 
^bordinate. 

The inconsistency of this deification of mere taste is 
apparent enough, but who has courage to strike the ser- 
pent that beguiles us a death blow? It is beautiful 
and charming. Oh ! it is so nice. So we take it to our 
bosom with the hope that there can not be any harm in 
it, since it is so pleasing, and the instrument of so glori- 
ous a cause. In an assembly of theological students, met 
in the interest of missions, one of the number made the 
statement that his mission had been about thirty dollars 
in debt, but that he had held a candy pulling and had 
raised most of the money. The incongruity of the two 
ideas was sufficient to produce a unanimous giggle, but 
no one was found bold enough to condemn the practice. 
^^ Nothing succeeds like success.^^ 

Taste, in itself, is not a bad thing, nor is making 
money ; but when religion is made a convenience for 
gratifying taste, or making money, it is prostituted, and 



A FALSE IDEA OF CHEISTIAN SERVICE. 117 

when social entertainments are used as an engine for 
raising contributions for religion, the true motive power 
is not felt. A dish is prepared for the palate to induce 
the partaker to give to the cause of Christ. I can not 
seeit in any other light than that of Christianity lifting her 
hat to materialism. 

(3) It inculcates a false idea of Christian service, and 
thus leads minds astray. 

Church entertainments are gotten up commonly by 
good Christian workers, whose motives and purposes are 
the purest. I say commonly, not always ; for, on ac- 
count of the social element, and the money involved, 
these entertainments are coming to be favorites with 
pleasure-seekers, and with those who want the financial 
patronage of the church ; who, at certain times, will be- 
come very much interested in the churches welfare. 
But commonly they are gotten up by good Christian 
workers, and conducted with ardent, though, as I be- 
lieve, misguided zeal. It is advertised that an entertain- 
ment is to be given for this or that religious purpose ; 
its claims are pressed on the ground that it is for the ben- 
efit 01 the church. It clamors for patronage on this 
consideration . The idea is held out that those who are pat- 
ronizing the entertainment are giving to the Lord^s 
cause, and will receive the blessings promised, all of 
which is misleading. It is a delusion, worthy of the 
devil, who beguiled the woman. It is, in fact, I believe, 
a scheme of the same, sly, old serpent, to get people 1o 
serve themselves under the pretense of serving God I 
am bold to say that in the patronage of such entertain- 
ments, as a rule, there is no service to God. Some, in 
deed, may contribute with a view simply and singly to 
God^s glory, but the inducement is strong the other way. 



118 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

Those who are sincere, and do it simply for a religious 
purpose^ must feel that such a method of raising religions 
contributions is a farce. I can not see how they can en- 
gage in it without feeling conscientious scruples that they 
are compromising religion with tlie world. Why not have 
some fascinating images of the deity made and placed in 
the church — of course^ with the understanding that these 
representations are nothing in themselves, but that they 
are designed simply as an aid to the worship of God? 
They would appeal powerfully to the sentiment, and 
would induce many a person who will not bow down to 
the awful, the spiritual, the unseen God, to come in and 
bow down and kiss the image and contribute something, 
too. It is a great aid to have some object in sight, some- 
thing which appeals to the sense and draws forth worship 
and money. There is no harm in the object itself, what- 
ever it be ; and by this Jneans you will induce many to 
worship God. 

The Church is giving herself away. She is pandering 
to the world for the sake of the world^s patronage. This 
means, simply, conformity to the world^s idea. It has 
ever been the pride of this world^s spirit to patronize a 
religion that maintains the form of truth, but denies its 
power, that feigns to be for God, but has nothing in 
common with the spirit of God. 

Such a religion pleases the world, and whatever 
pleases the world has much in its favor. It makes little 
difference with the Satan what men worship, so they 
do n^t worship God in the spirit and in truth. He will 
doubtless give us the world if we fall down and worship 
him. It pleases him equally well for men to worship 
themselves as to worship him. Yea, he is seldom so bold 
as to seek the devotion of even poor human creatures, in 



SPIRITUALITY IMPAIRED. 119 

his own name and garb. He is fully satisfied if they 
will give adoration to something else under the name and 
guise of Christian service. And he is never so danger- 
ous as when he assumes the form of an angel of light. 

The impression is made on the world that to be a 
Christian is not so serious a thing. It does not neces- 
sarily call for any sacrifices. Eeligion can be supported in- 
cidentally by ministering to our own worldly pride or 
pleasure. This method exalts self-indulgence above the 
direct and pure worship of God. 

The world feels the effect of this, but does not see its 
inconsistency, because they do n^t know what spiritual 
religion is. It is all right with them. They are willing 
to support the church if you will make the method con- 
formable to their taste or pleasure. This has been the 
policy of the Church of Rome, and she has succeeded 
well. Why should not we successfully employ the same 
tactics ? But the evil is produced that the people get 
the wrong idea of religion, and all our preaching and 
singing and formal ceremonies may not correct it. Too 
many conceive that in joining the church they are 
joining simply a social, moral institution to which all really 
cultivated people are expected to belong, which will give 
them social prestige, put them into feUowship with the 
better class of society, and which, while it restrains them 
from immoralities, will give them a pleasant transit 
through this world, and deliver them safe into heaven at 
last. 

(4) As I have already intimated, this method dries up 
the spirituality of the church. Spirituality is the life of 
Christianity. It is the hearths service to God. However 
praiseworthy or beneficent an act may be, performed from 
any other motive than love to God, it is not a spiritual act. 



120 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

Read in the thirteenth chapter of first Corinthians the 
essential value which the apostle places on love in any re- 
ligious service. Now it is contended that the method 
of raising money by festivals^ social pleasures^ amuse- 
ment and extravagance, can not enhance the spiritual 
life of those who participate in them ; but that it does 
promote a worldly spirit^ and a cold, artistic patronage 
of religion, without any real heart worship. While spir- 
itual religion is not opposed to social enjoyment, mak- 
ing money, or to any harmless amusement, it is entirely 
independent of them, and must be the source of all ac- 
ceptable service to God. 

Religion does contribute incidently to business pros- 
perity, social order, and whatever is right and desir- 
able. But the method under question reverses this 
order. It makes social fellowship, the gratification of 
^he appetite, amusement- a means of religious service, 
and the consequence is the true worship of God is made 
subordinate to worldly considerations. It proposes to 
run religion on the same principle as fairs, or other busi- 
ness and social enterprises. Whatever does this degrades 
religion, yea, destroys it. 

Giving to the Lord is as much an act of service as 
praying, singing or teaching. Giving directly from con- 
victions of duty, motives of love and gratitude, tend 
powerfully toward the development of spirituality and 
growth in grace ; but the method of raising money by 
entertainments, not only neglects and fails to cultivate 
this spirit, but fosters another that is directly opposed to 
it, namely, the spirit of self-interest and self-service. It 
thus tends to dry up the fountain of pure benevolence 
and throw the church for dependence on appeals to sel- 
fishness. It may be claimed that it has produced no such 



OTHER EVIL RESULTS. 121 

results. My answer is that in many places it has pro- 
duced such results ; not, it may be, in the strongest cen- 
ters of Christian activity, but in remote and less fortified 
places. It has become a common means of raising 
money for every purpose, and is regularly depended on. 
In such a locality one can not but be impressed with the 
utter worldlines of spirit that characterizes the church. 
Spiritual power is, to a great extent, gone. It is not felt 
by the world. The Church has lost her drawing power. 

This custom is comparatively a recent development. 
It must be borne in mind that all the corruptions of the 
churches faith and practice have had small beginnings. 
The fact that great men approve this custom is a weak 
argument in its favor, for what mischievous practice has 
not been advocated and encouraged, both in its incip- 
iency and its further progress, by some great men, and 
looked upon with toleration by others. It is hardly 
probable that we shall, in this age, develop anything so 
crude as masses for the dead, and the sale of church in- 
dulgences; but it is altogether probable, so long as hu- 
man nature remains unchanged, that we shall be drifted 
into the quicksands or thrown upon the breakers, that 
lie contiguous to the current of the age in which we live. 

(5) This custom leads to other evils. It is often the 
cause or occ;ision of extravagant expenditures of money, 
for what is not an equivah'ut. It leads to undue ornament- 
ation and finery, means to purchase which can not be ob- 
tained otherwise. It grows by what it feeds upon. It 
often imposes itself upon the community in the form of 
lotteries. It is also favorable to levity and revelry. It 
is claimed that it is beneficial on account of the social 
feature ; but so far as that is concerned, I hardly think 
that the society which offers itself for the consideration 



122 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

of a dime or a quarter, is much worth courting. I have 
been told, in reference to the entertainments held in a 
certain city, that the best class of young ladies do not 
generally attend them, nor the young men either. I 
can not speak of my own knowledge, but this is exactly 
what I should expect. 

(6) This method of raising money is not necessary, 
and, in the long run, will not pay. It proceeds on the 
supposition that money, for the cause of Christ, can not 
be raised without such means. Or, in other words, that 
they are necessary to the advancement of Christianity ; 
that is to say, that the cause of Christ can not so well 
run itself according to the methods known in the Bible, 
namely, direct free will offerings. If this claim be true, 
it furnishes a sufficient ground for money entertainments. 
Money is necessary to run the cause of Christ. Money 
must be had ; if those wha possess it will not give it, then 
some efficient method must be devised to secure it from 
them by indirect means. There need not be anything im- 
moral or uncivil in the money entertainment. The greatest 
evil is that it places the support of religion on a wrong 
basis, thus tending to deaden spiritual sensibilities, 
extinguish real benevolence, and in this way weaken the 
true support of religion. Yet, under some circum- 
stances, it may be better to support religion on a wrong 
basis than not to support it at all. So the religious 
money entertainment may have been a revolt against 
parsimony, and may have contributed, to vsome extent, 
to break up a reign of covetousness which refused to af- 
ford the money necessary to support the cause of religion. 
In this light it may have deserved some recognition as 
the lesser of two evils. Possibly, some good results have 
been produced. If so, it will not be the first time that 



REASONS FOE THIS METHOD. 123 

good has been brought out of evil. If this be the proper 
explanation of the rapid prevalence of this custom^ may- 
it not be hoped that on a better understanding of the 
needs of the cause of Christ, and our obligation to con- 
tribute regularly and liberally, together with the bless- 
ings, both temporal and spiritual, guaranteed to the 
giver, this custom will fail for the lack of any further 
need of it. But such a claim seems to invalidate the 
efficiency of Christianity, and make it dependent on 
shrewd shifts and devices which belittle the religion of 
God, dethrone it from the heart and conscience as the 
supreme motive power of human conduct, and make it 
a helpless dependent, hanging to the apron strings of the 
world^s society for patronage and support. 

This supposition is hardly true. The cause of Christ, 
I should think, is fully able to take care of itself, when 
its claims are properly presented, without appeals to any 
exterior motives. 

If the same means were spent and the same time and 
trouble bestowed in efforts to teach the people what they 
owe to the Lord, and the duty of making frequent and 
free contributions to His treasury, there would be an abun- 
dance of means to meet the demands of all work 
for Christ, without the expense of the churches spiritual 
life. Why then is this method pursued with such alac- 
rity? Three reasons may be noted. The first, is to 
avoid working for the cause and giving of one^s own 
earnings. The second, the strong disposition to get 
something for nothing, a feat which is often successfully 
accomplished at these entertainments, and the third is to 
shirk the unpleasantness of teaching people their duty, 
and soliciting contributions to the Lord^s cause. It is 
so much more delightful and flattering to vanity to get 



124 FIVE YEAKS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

up a thrilling entertainment that will capture the people 
and bring in the money by the mere charm of the occa- 
sion. A fourth reason may be added, namely, the suc- 
cess which often attends the method, 

A proper analysis of this question will discover no less 
than four elements at work : 

1. There is a steadily increasing demand for contribu- 
tions. That is a good sign. It clearly shows an awak- 
ening on the subject of religious duty. 

2. The business-like spirit of the age, which tends to 
make every enterprise, even religion, pay in material 
wealth. 

3. A growing recognition of the propriety and neces- 
sity of social cultivation and its consistency with genuine 
religion. 

* 4. An increasing appreciation of the beautiful, or 
artistic in religious worsliip, together with the ever-abid- 
ing disposition to make religion pleasing — to conform it 
to our preference. All these elements are united in the 
church festival or religious money entertainments. 

We shall make a mistake if we do not recognize these 
tendencies and direct them in a proper way. 

To meet the demands for increasing religious contri- 
butions calls for more instruction as to the duty of giv- 
ing. The money is in the world to carry on the Lord's 
cause, and it will be forthcoming when the claims of 
that cause are sufficiently presented and pressed ; but 
there is need for much teaching on this subject. 

We need a book on the obligation and blessing of giv- 
ing, bringing out clearly 'and succinctly the real spiritual 



* See a sermon by Dr.'John A. Broadus. Sermon and addresses, pp. 
11-26. 



TENDENCIES CONSIDERED. 125 

doctrine on that subject. Who will give it to us? More 
tracts and pamphlets treating of it are demanded. More 
preaching about it, more private agitation and instruction 
are demanded. The needs of the various fields of work 
must be more clearly presented^ and systematic plans 
devised and put into execution for soliciting contribu- 
tions,and stimulating example by frequent collections. 

As to the second of these tendencies, it must be borne 
in mind in the midst of this business world, that Christi- 
anity is a divine and holy business that does not seek pat- 
ronage at the hands of worldly society, and can not itself 
be made to subserve any worldly interest, except as it inci- 
dentally promotes whatever is good in all relations. It has 
for its aim the salvation of souls and their training for a fu- 
ture life. It is itself the highest object of human effort, 
and can not be made subordinate to anything. It claims 
dominion over the heart and conscience, and is the 
strongest motive power of human conduct. 

As to the third of these tendencies, it is evident that 
human nature has a social element, and there is no rea- 
son why the development of the social disposition should 
be restrained. Religion does not oppose social culture, 
but rather encourages it, and there are reasons why it 
should be taken into consideration and promoted in 
connection with religious work in the bounds of good 
morals and manners, particularly as it conduces to good 
feeling in society, and makes life pleasant and joyous. 
Only let not its culture be cherished as a means of sup- 
porting the church. 

As to the fourth, we must employ some art in all our 
efforts of devotion and in all our arrangements for wor- 
ship. The question of how much art is to be desired will 
depend, to some extent, on the art culture of the congre- 



126 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

gation; but one principle is fundamental, namely, that 
all must be made subordinate to spiritual service. And 
nothing should be introduced that will interfere with the 
spiritual worship of the spiritual God. And let all the 
service, whether it be singing, praying, teaching or giv- 
ing, be done from spiritual motives. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Campaign on the Buoy. — Meeting of the Associations. — School at 

Blountville. 

At the close of my school at Mt. Carmel, I held a 
week^s meeting there. It was probably the first pro- 
tracted meeting of a week^s length that was ever held in 
the place. I preached morning and evening. My de- 
sire was to give them a series of simple unadulterated 
gospel sermons. Bro. Bush was with me, to aid me by 
his prayers, sympathy and exhortations. We had 
large and interested congregations. This was the wind- 
ing up of my work at Mt. Carmel, and the beginning of 
the summer protracted meetings. It was the purpose of 
Elder Bush and myself to hold several meetings in the 
destitute parts where he was laboring as missionary. 
The section of country lay up and down Buoy, a large 
creek running three miles east of Mt. Carmel. Some 
years before there had been a Baptist church above Mt. 
Carmel, on or near this creek. Bat through some 
malice, its seems, the house was burned, the church went 
down, and was never revived. A new church. Little 
Whitesand, had been built some miles west of the place, 
but several members of the old church had not after- 
wards united with any other. One of these was Hardy 
Pittman. He had been a deacon of Harmony church 
and was formerly a man of some wealth, but his fortune 
was now gone, and he was scarcely able to live. Yet he 
still maintained his faith, and to some extent, his zeal 
for the cause of Christ. 

127 



128 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

I was satisfied that there was room for a church in the 
neighborhood of where this old man lived. There was 
also some other members of Baptist churches living in 
the community. It was northeast of Mt. Carmel. One 
evening on my way from Salem^ I searched for the home 
of Hardy Pittmen. I found him in a little hut, a feeble 
man in his last years; yet still alive on the subject of 
church work. A man of sound faith and sense, ready 
to undertake anything for the Master^s cause. I told 
him of my interest in this section of the country and 
of my earnest solicitude to commence work there. 

His countenance lighted up and glowed with interest. 
He declared it had been his hearths desire and the burden 
of his prayers. A few years before a work had been be- 
gun in the community ; a church had been constituted 
by a Bro. Vv^ebster, but it was neglected and soon went 
down. 

After preaching at Bethany on tlie third Sunday in 
July, I hastened up into this region. I found Bro. Bush 
assisting the pastor of Little Whitesand, Elder R. A. 
Druramonds, in a meeting at a scliool-house west of 
Buoy. The meeting closed the day of my arrival and 
and both of the brethren being compelled to leave, we 
moved across the creek to a place called the Dog Wood. 
There was a little school house here, but it was too small 
and otherwise unsuited for a meeting house; some 
benches were arranged under a large spreading Dog 
Wood tree, and here for several days and nights meeting 
was held. 

There were some excellent families in the community ; 
but it w^as destitude of any religious advantages. Some 
of the people belonged to various kinds of churches at 
a distance, but the mass of the people belonged to no 



MEETINGS ON THE BOUY. 129 

church and attended no religious services. Here was one 
of my most sacred experiences. How delightful is it to 
preach to people, who have some appreciation of the 
benefits of the gospel, yet have been denied its privil- 
eges. How eagerly they listen to catch every word ; 
how simply and reverently they behaved themselves. 
The gospel is a new sound to them, and they treat you 
very defferentially for the interest you take in them. 

When the meeting closed I left a regular appointment 
here for Saturday morning once a month. In the fall 
the members were constituted into a church. A sub- 
scription of almost a sufficient amount was raised on the 
field to build a house of worship, but for lack of timely 
and energetic prosecution the project fell through. 

At the beginning of the next year (1886), the new 
church was placed under the charge of the missionary. 
The next week, after my regular appointment at Salem, 
I held several days meeting at the Bird schoolhouse 
north of Williamsburg, preaching morning and evening 
out of doors to a good congregation. At the same time 
Elder Bush was carrying on a meeting on Buoy south of 
Williamsburg where shortly after a church named Vic- 
tory was organized. 

On the fifth Sunday in July a mass meeting was held 
at Antioch, thrt. e miles south of Mt. Carmel. It was of 
much interest and was greatly enjoyed. On Sunday 
night the missionary and myself crossed Bouy to begin a 
meeting at Black Jack, a Protestant Methodist church. 
I had never before come in contact with this denomina- 
tion of Christians. They had thrown open their doors to the 
missionary and he preached here occasionally. We held 
meetings for several days together, and I then continued 
it by myself for a few days. There were no immediate 



J 30 



FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 



results, yet it was hoped that seed was sown which would 
germinate and spring up and grow until this community 
should rejoice in a glorious light of gospel liberty. 

I was assisted in my meeting at Bethany by Eld. S. 
O. Y. Ray, who was under the employment of the 
State Mission Board. 

He lived at Enterprise, and occupied the field which a 
few years before had been entered by Eld. H. B. Cooper. 




S. O. Y. RAY. 



Bro. Ray is a good preacher, an excellent worker, and a 
man of lovable disposition. A fine meeting was the re- 
sult of our efforts, a soul reviving meeting, and many 
were added to the church. 

At Salem I was assisted by Eld. H. M. Long, who a 
few years before was the beloved pastor of Salem and 



VARIOUS MEETINGS. 



131 



Leaf River churches where he had accomplished a good 
work for this country. He was now located at Shuqualak. 

We had an interesting meeting at Salem, also, and 
there were several additions. 

At Bunker Hill, this year, I had no help in the min- 
istry, but there was a good meeting. 




T. E. H. ROBINSON. 



On Saturday before the first Sunday in September was 
the time for the meeting for the Pearl Leaf Association, 
but on account of a severe storm of wind and rain the 
Association did not meet and organize until Sunday 
morning. The following address was read by the 
moderator. 

^' Brethren of the Association : — Through the 
mercies of God we are permitted to assemble in this our 
first anniversary meeting. On reviewing the past year 



132 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

there are many things for which we should be profoundly 
grateful. The first of these is our existence as an Asso- 
ciation. It is a matter for congratulation among our- 
selves and for thankfulness to God, that so many breth- 
ren from different localities in this section animated by 
one spirit and united on the same purpose have been 
brought together in one organized body. 

Our ministerial strength has been increased by the 
valuable addition to our number of Eld. T. E. H. 
Robinson.* While our churches are few and their num- 
ber will probably not be augmented at this meeting, it is 
encouraging to know that they are among the most sub- 
stantial of the country. All of them have been self- 
sustaining during the past year. The majority have 
good Sunday-schools and are in a working and growing 
condition ; while some have felt the special revival wave 
which has swept over the land, all it is to be hoped have 
made permanent progress. The destitution in our 
bounds has been partially supplied, and there has been 
occasional preaching, at least, in every community. 

But while we should take courage from these results, 
we should not fail to realize the responsibilities of the 
future. The work is great, especially where we consider 
our numbers. There is no hope of great results but in 
fostering a spirit of progress and perpetual development. 

One crying need in all our churches is increased spir- 
ituality. When we consider that the efficiency of the 
churches of Christ, in dispensing light and life to ^the 
world, depends on their own spiritual life, we have need 
to continually exert ourselves to deepen the tone of 
piety, and raise to a higher pitch the spiritual life and 



* Eld. Robinson is a brother, much beloved, who has been instrumental 
in the conversion of a great many souls. 



AN ADDRESS. ^ 133 

activity of our members; and we should spare no pains 
or labor to secure this result. More frequent meetings 
should be held. More and better preaching and pastoral 
work should be done ; Sunday-schools, prayer-meetings, 
siuging-schools, mission societies, the circulation and 
reading of Christian literature, are all means by which 
we should constantly seek this end. 

Another defect in our church work is the failure to 
enlist many members, male and female, in contributions 
to our benevolent enterprises. We are embarrassed by 
the want of some business-like plan by which every 
member of the church can be reached and influenced to 
give to the support of the cause of Christ in all the 
diverse enterprises which promote that cause. 

The mission work which has been begun in our midst 
should be prosecuted with redoubled vigor until the 
people of every community rejoice in the regular min- 
istrations of the gospel. This seems to me to be a work 
to the demands of which every Baptist heart ought to 
respond with liberality. 

Finally we must not forget that we are a part of the 
great brotherhood of the State and the South, identified 
with them in every enterprise which has for its end the 
furtherance of the Redeemer's kingdom.'' 

One new church. Victory by name, was received at 
this meeting. The missionary was paid up and em- 
ployed next year for half instead one-fourth of his 
time. 

The next Saturday was the time for the convening of 
the Pearl River Association. I attended my church at 
Bunker Hill, and left Sunday afternoon for the Associa- 
tion which was to assemble forty miles distant, going across 
a section of country over which I had never traveled. I 



134 FIVE YEAKI5 IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

was compelled to cross Pearl River. When I arrived on 
the bank of this stream I hallooed for awhile, for the 
ferryman was not in sight. I got oflF, hitched my horse, 
and walked up and down the road in impatience. 
Finally I espied an old conch-shell, and taking it up I 
began to blow, but it made no noise. I blew harder 
and harder; but the harder I blew the less noise it 
made. I began to think that something must be the 
matter with it, when, just then, I happened to give a 
gentle puff and it sounded greatly to my unexpected de- 
light. After a long time of blowing and waiting I ob- 
served a woman on the further shore with a child in her 
arms, coming up to the river in great haste. She put the 
child down and commenced bailing out the water, and 
soon she was pulling the flat to my bank of the river. 
This was the first female ferryman I had met with in 
some years. The charge was one dime ; but as I did 
not have the exact change, and she had no money at all, 
I was forced to go on my way without paying her, 
though I afterwards sent the money. 

It was now growing late, almost night, and a long 
road lay before me. I had been informed that I should 
pass Sardin's church on the way, and had received definite 
instructions as to what roads to take. I rode on and on and 
on; night came, and still I rode on. At length I grew sorry 
for my pony and got down and walked. About eleven 
o'clock I came to a building on the side of the road which 
I knew from the appearance must be Sardin's church. 
I was at a loss which road to take; for there seemed to 
be three roads running off. I walked up and down some 
of the roads a short distance, hoping there might be a 
dwelling, but I found none. I remembered it had been 
said that I must turn to the right; so I took the first 



A NIGHT JOUENEY. 135 

right hand. It was pretty dark. The road led me 
down through an old field by a deserted place, where 
there had evidently been a dwelling. It grew dimmer 
and dimmer, and finally ended in a brake. I found 
myself out of the road in a thicket, my way in front 
closed up with undergrowth. My pony stealthily fol- 
lowed, while I held the rein. I was thoroughly con- 
vinced that this was not the way. I could do nothing but 
turn back to the church and try another road. So I did, 
taking the next right hand. Although it was quite 
dark I managed to keep the settlement road, leading my 
pony about a mile and a half, when I came to what ap- 
peared to be a store-house, with a dw^elling to the right. 
I hallooed and whooped. I never knew people to sleep 
so soundly, but it was time to sleep, for it was evidently 
about twelve, and I was well prepared to join them in that 
business. Finally a man came out of the store-house, 
and I asked if I might stay over night. Whereupon he 
replied that there was a protracted meeting going on at 
the church and that he was overflowed with company 
and could not take me in. On inquiring the distance to 
the next house I learned that it was about a mile or 
two, more or less. I had no tim(^ to lose, for I wanted 
to sleep some that night, so I trudged along. Part of 
the time I seemed to be in an old untraveled road, but 
I had good luck to keep right, and finally I was 
facing a good looking dwelling to the left of the road. I 
shouted a few times, and the gentleman came out on the 
gallery in l]is night clothes, but to my bitter disappoint- 
ment informed me that the protracted meeting which 
was going on at the church had filled his house with 
company. It was about two miles, he said, as wt 11 as I 
remember, to the next house. So I trudged on, my 



136 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

* 

pony following me. It began now to be a serious busi- 
ness. 

After awhile I came into a large public road. I tool?: 
the right hand, not knowing whither I went. It led me 
along between some large plantations, across a valley, 
and to the summit of a high hill, where the roads 
forked; but all this time I had seen no house. Not 
knowing which way to go, and seeing plantations around 
I determined to halloo, hoping to wake up a dog. So 
I took a long siege of hallooing, but only the echo came 
back. There was evidently nothing to do but to turn 
either to the right or the left, and, as I had been going 
to the right all night, I concluded to try the left. It 
soon led me down in front of a large dwelling, a few 
whoops brought the landlord to the door. 

As I was now out of the neighborhood of Sardines 
church there was no longer any excuse for not taking 
me in. The landlord, from his questions, evidently 
thought I had been on a spree, as I supposed the other 
gentlemen had thought. He asked me a good many ques- 
tions as to why I was out so late, where I was from, 
whither bound, etc. I told him I was a Baptist minis- 
ter and a messenger to a certain Association. He could 
hardly believe it, nevertheless he took me in. I noticed 
he eyed me suspiciously while we were putting my pony 
away, and knowing what he suspected I tried to walk 
perfectly straight. But who would not have been liable 
to stagger after riding fifteen miles and walking ten 
since dinner, it being now two o'clock A. M. 

The name of my host was Bacot. The next morning 
he was still dubious as to my story. I ofiFered to pay 
him for my lodging, but he refused. So we separated to 
meet no more till we meet with all the balance of our 



EETURN TRIP. 137 

brethren of Adam's race before the bar of God. May 
we both be prepared for the event. 

It was sixteen miles to Pleasant Hill, where the as- 
sociation was holding its meeting. I had some trouble 
in finding the way^ and got there only a short time be- 
fore adjournment, just in time to take the parting hand. 
Dr. Webb, of Mississippi College, was there, and J. G. 
Chastain, who should leave that place for the seminary 
at Louisville. 

In the morning I started back, though by a nearer 
route. About eleven o'clock I came to a church house. 
The people were gathering for meeting. As I knew of 
no Baptist Church in these parts, I took it for granted it 
must be of some other denomination. I passed the church, 
but continued to meet the people. At last one brother 
meeting me said: ^^Why, how are you, Bro. Powell? 
Aint this Bro. Powell?" and so I was known. I 
learned that this was a Baptist Church and concluded to 
go back and spend the day with them. Bro. Norris, 
from Hazlehurst, was the pastor. I preached in the 
forenoon from the Scripture : ^* These are they that fol- 
low the Lamb whithersoever he goeth." The pastor 
preached in the afternoon. A most pleasant day was 
spent with these saints in worshiping God. I stayed 
over night with the pastor at Bro. Criscoe's, a progres- 
sive farmer and a prominent member of the church. In 
the morning I pressed onward toward home. About 
eleven o'clock I was entering the historic little town of 
Monticello, situated on Pearl River. It had been once 
burned down, and then blown away by a cyclone, but 
was now building up again. Stopping in front of a cer- 
tain store I was greeted by a voice which cried, '^ How 
do you do? I am glad to see you. Get down. Where 



138 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

have you been ? You are the very man I should have 
preferred to see. Is there any chance to get you to 
preach for us here? You are the man we want. Get 
down and take dinner with me.^^ This w^as the familiar 
and cheering address of C. R. Dale, an enterprising- 
merchant and a leader in Monticello church. The 
church had been left without a pastor by the resignation 
of Elder T. D. Bush. They had called J. G. Chastain, 
but he had gone to the seminary. I had at this time no 
thought of entertaining a call. I continued my journey 
until nighty when I reached the pleasant family of W. 
M. Waller^ in the neighborhood of Bethany. 

It was now the autumn of 1885. The citizens of 
Blountville, which is the name of the postoiBce near Beth- 
any, were diligently agitating the matter of building up 
a high school. It had certainly been much needed for 
many years. They had talked about it before, and 
now they said they were in ^earnest. Indeed they 
had gone so far as to tear down the old academy which 
stood three miles above, and move the lumber to Blount- 
ville; and the somnd of the carpenter^s hammer was 
heard on the pile. 

It had not commended itself to me as good policy to 
teach in the community where I was pastor. But some 
of the citizens thought I was the rnan, and there were 
some considerations which moved me favorably. I had 
that kind of interest in the community w^hich one would 
have to whom it had been a chief concern for four 
years. 

I was satisfied of the necessity of a high school as a 
means of improving the membership of the church. I 
am persuaded that people must be educated before they 
wall make efficient workers in the cause of Christ. As 



SCHOOL AT BLOUNT VILLE, 139 

a rule the more intelligent the membership of a church 
the more they will do for the progress of religion. 
With this view education becomes a necessity. It is 
impracticable to raise to a high degree of zeal and ac- 
tivity in Christian service people who are uneducated. 
Education should be regarded as a means to an end. We 
should educate not that we may be religious, but being 
religious we must educate that we may do more work for 
humanity and for Christ. The Presbyterians are not 
nearly so strong jn the United States as we are, yet they 
do more for Christian missions and other forms of 
benovolence. The reason is, I think, that a larger per 
cent, of their people are educated. Education broadens 
the range of view; it breaks down perjudice, quickens 
the understanding, cultivates taste, stimulates pride and 
raises the aspirations to do something. It is high time 
that we are vesting wdth due importance this aid to 
Christian work. 

There was no point in the country which, according to 
my judgment, offered such advantages for a permanent 
school as this place. Not because it was noted either for 
health or culture, but there were more children in reach 
of this point than of any other country community in 
my knowledge, and their parents, generally, were able 
to send them to school. The village stood in a plain 
adjoining Whitesand Creek on the crossroads, one run- 
ning north and south, connecting Columbia and the 
CO st with the upper country, and the other running east 
and west between the two railroads. The people lived 
thick up and down on both sides of the creek. 

I desired to establish a school of a high order, for 
nothing seemed to be appreciated that cost more than a 
dollar and a half a month. My hope was to unite all 



140 FIVE YEAES IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

the neighborhood schools on this point. On the assur- 
ance of support from leading men around I secured an 
assistant^ Miss Katie Cavitt, an accomplished young 
lady, a graduate of Central Female Institute, who had 
for two years taught in an adjoining community. Our 
school opened amidst adverse surroundings. Various 
attempts were made to start schools in different parts of 
the community. One Sunday night, after preaching in 
the school-house, I was awakened about midnight by 
the cry that the school-house was burning down. Some 
party who had opposed the moving of the old building 
had secretly set fire to it and it was soon reduced to 
ashes. We secured an old dwelling-house near by and 
continued the school. In one month, such was the zeal 
of the citizens, a new house was ready to be occupied. 
There were many things which contributed to make our 
school pleasant. It was not, however, excessively large, 
nor was there perfect satisfaction in the community as to 
the management. Nevertheless we had a good school, 
and left the community in a better condition for a session, 
the next year. 

Ode to Blountville. 

Why in ray thoughts such memories arise ? 
Why in my highest mind dost thou abide ? 
Thy hills,, plains, groves, and walks enchanted seem. 
Far from thy fields most pleasant breezes blow. 
Not joy and ease a place to me endears. 
But duty's pains and bliss from inner springs. 
The church called Bethany, not distant, stood 
Where saints, hampered by sin and buffeted, 
Had yet hard battles fought in toils and tears. 
And many a triumph won through grace of heaven. 
Where God's own spirit loved to dwell, and pour 
Forth rich effusions from the fount of his 
Eternal love ; and Jesus, blessed Son, 



ODE TO BLOUNTVILLE. 141 

And King alone, in Zion, ruled in midst 

Of his own people dear by blood redeemed. 

Within that ancient grove and house revered, 

The Church of God has often met for praise ; 

And after praise for social fellowship. 

Then strife has ceased, and peace of love has reigned. 

And heart to heart united effort joined 

In purpose to promote the Master's cause. 

Together bound by sympathy for man, 

Degraded, lost where'er the race is found. 

Near, too, flowed Whitesand, by shady banks. 

From whose baptismal waters have emerged 

A thousand converts true, as from a grave — 

The emblem fit of changed and holy life. 

Then earth was new and heaven's smiles approved, 

The father's voice in secret said, " Thou art 

My child ; well done. As thou to sin has died. 

In ways of peace and righteousness live on." 

Thy citizens w^ere plain, of simple mould ; 

Not skilled as yet in learned lore. 

Nor cultured in refined art of life ; 

Yet with hearts that op'ed to broad improvement, 

Young minds were springing up as willing shoots, 

Awaked by sun and showers fresh of spring. 

Aloud they cried for culture and refinement, 

To meet the wants of this progressive age ; 

Nor fathers would desire their sons contend. 

Nor mothers wish their daughters strive in life, 

Unarmed as they themselves had been compelled. 

Her^, then, for character development, 

A field there was of limits wide and long ; 

And here I built my school. My heart was here. 

I hoped not now to build to great extent, 

For time was short, my work almost w^as done ; 

But deep a foundation dig and lay the stones 

Whereon might others build, if God should will. 

The work was done, or good, or ill. A school 

Was built, not least, though last of my intent — 

But what result is seen ? What impress made ? 

Not mete, it is forgotten ills to raise ; 

The odor sweet alone should now remain, 



142 FIVE YEABS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

Most blessed truth of earth's experience school. 
The joy prevails when cares no more corrode, 
With this one only sad reflection mixed, 
These bitter blissful days can not return. 
Delisjhts restrained by pleasure's chords of love. 
Unfailing bands that weave around the heart 
Of teacher and of taught cases of steel. 
There 's that within the soul which neither life, 
Nor death, nor trials of distress, nor care, 
Can wring ; nor time nor distance take away. 
The form, yea, essence of those spirits which 
Live ever green, and move within our life. 
The album which I most prize is one of mind ; 
Their eyes that sparkle and lips that move. 
Features that radiant glow with friendship light, 
And hearts that speak to heart in words of cheer. 
These treasures rich, more dear I hold than all 
Pure w^orldly things. Possessed of other's selves. 
We live, preserved in never dying thoughts. 
To meet again, if pure in heart and true. 
Where spirits freed from clay in heaven's bliss 
Shall hold eternal fellowship of love. 
When time is o'er, where far above the arch 
Of yon blue vault, the tow'ring sky, for aye 
We dwell, a company through faith select 
In the city of light, in blest eternity. 



CHAPTER XV. ;: 

^The Last Year in South Mississippi. — Off for Louisville. 

The autumn of ^85, which witnessed the beginning of 
the school at Blountville, brought with it my last year 
in South Mississippi. I was called to all of my churches, 
but some considerations interfered to prevent me from 
accepting the care of all. Bunker Hill, during the last 
two years, had fallen somewhat behind in the pastor's sal- 
ary, and the community was financially very much 
pressed. The building of a church-house, the maintain- 
ance of an eight or ten months' school each year, and the 
support of the church, had contributed to put many be- 
hind, and so it seemed best to them not to assume any 
new obligations until they should catch up. The church 
agreed to pay [me what was behind, and, having done 
this, requested me to serve them for whatever they could 
pay at the close of the year. This I could not do, as I 
did not think it best for the church at that time, nor wise 
for a precedent in the future ; and, besides, it would be 
contrary to all my teachings on the subject. Thus ter- 
minated my relations with this church and community, 
after a service of nearly four years. It was an |issue to 
be lamented, yet, perhaps, it was rendered necessary by 
the circumstances. I have never censured the church, 
and, as to my own course, I leave it for those to judge 
who can render an impartial verdict. One thing, how- 
ever, I would take occasion here to urge — the prompt 
payment of what is promised by a church to her pastor. 



144 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

It is a matter of prime importance in the conduct of 
the church business that her finances be kept clear. 
Let her once become embarrassed by debt and it will 
work great ill every way. Oue reason of the common 
delinquency in the payment of the pastor is the custom 
of putting off collections until the crop is sold. There 
is a false notion at the bottom of this custom. It is this : 
that all necessaries must be arranged for first, and then 
the surplus dollar given to the minister. Now, if it is 
the duty of members of the church to support the Gospel, 
it is certainly a necessary duty, and equally urgent with 
any other. It is true that all members do not have 
money at any time of the year, yet there are few that can 
not pay their subscription quarterly, even if it be neces- 
sary for them to borrow. It would be better for every 
member to borrow a small amount once and awhile than 
for the pastor to run extensively in debt. It is to the 
church's interest that her pastor keepout of debt,andshe 
can do much to keep him from debt if she pays a liv- 
ing salary, by paying it promptly along through the 
year. This can be done as well as not, and there 
will not be such an amount to raise, all at once, at the 
last. 

Bethany was intent this year on having services but 
one Sunday in the month. In my pastorate here there 
has been, from the first, an issue involved, namely, an in- 
crease of religious services. This issue was not popular. 
It called for more work and for more sacrifices. The 
policy attempted in this respect was in striking contrast 
with all the other churches of the country, and grew 
more and more unpopular from year to year. The 
church this year proposed a salary of two hundred dol- 
lars for one Sunday, and I, knowing that this was my 



ARRANGING FOR THE LAST YEAR. 145 

last year in the county, and desiring to maintain my re- 
retain my relation with this church, so long as I should 
remain^ accepted on the condition that I should be released 
the last of September, which was finally agreed to. 

Having resigned Bunker Hill, and given up one Sun- 
day at Bethany, I had now but half of my lime occu- 
pied. This opened the way for a brief pastorate at Mon- 
ticello, and gave me one idle Sunday. 

The Monticello Church was weak. The town was 
slowly recovering from the cyclone which a few years 
before had made a clean sweep of it. The members 
were few and not wealthy. Material was limited; there 
was a poor prospect of building up. But there were 
some excellent people, and some noble brethren. Ours 
was the only church in the place at this time. It was a 
garden well worth cultivating, which might one day 
blossom as the rose. 

In addition to my other work, during the last year, I 
had engaged, incidentally, as I had opportunity, in sell- 
ing books. The experiment hardly paid me financially, 
and did not, by any means, contribute to strengthen 
me in the aflfection and sympathy of the brethren. My 
experience in this respect convinced me that pastors can 
well afford to let colporteurs and regular agents run the 
book business. Colportage is a necessary work and de- 
mands encouragement. It may sometimes seem neces- 
sary, in the absence of book-sellers, for a pastor to give 
circulation to good books, but, even then, I am inclined 
to think he should do so without any wish to realize 
profits. 

I held a meeting of one week in the summer at Mon- 
ticello, doing all the preaching myself. There was one 
addition to the church, a young lady. I attended a pro- 



146 



FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 



traded meeting after tliis, for a day or two, at Bethel. 
This church is three miles south of Monticello — Elder 
B. Crawford was the Pastor. The Maxwell family were 
prominent in the community. The meeting closed with 
excellent results. At Bethany, also, I assisted myself, 
and the meeting was not inferior to those of other years. 
As the present result sixteen were added to the church; 




J. L. FINLEY. 



and the brotherhood were united and strengthened. The 
same was true at Salem. I had to do all the preaching. 
There was a good meeting with several ,additions. 

On the fifth Sunday in August a mass meeting was 
held at Mt. Carmel, in the school-house. Elder C. H. 
Otkin, proprietor of Lea Female College, located at Sum- 
mit, was present. Hecontril)uted much to the interest 
of the meeting, and made, altogether, a favorable impres- 



CO-OPEHATION. 147 

sion for his school. I know of no better qualified educa- 
tor in the State. 

On Saturday, before the first Sunday in September, 
came the meeting of the Pearl Leaf Association. It con- 
vened with the church at Central. We were ninety dol- 
lars behind on the salary of the missionary. This 
amount however, was raised by subscription, and after- 
w^ards paid. It was recommended that the mission 
work in the Association be curtailed to one-fourth of the 
missionary's time, w^hich was done, and the work turned 
over to Elder J. L. Finley, who had recently been or- 
dained. He was, at this time, elected Moderator of the 
Association. 

A sore disappointment was experienced by many 
brethren at this meeting. Up to this time it had been 
considered best for the Pearl Leaf Association to do its 
own Mission work. This, for the reason that it was able 
to do it, and did not need the assistance of the State 
Board. It was feared that if we sought co-operation it 
might be an encouragement to some churches to depend on 
the Board, which was not desired ; for the Board had 
already spent three hundred dollars, partly on our terri- 
tory, when we belonged to the Pearl Eiver Association. 
Moreover, w? had all the State Mission work in our 
bounds that we could stand up to for awhile, and it was 
thought that to throw the responsibility of this work 
upon our churches would be the best way to enlist them, 
and develop the mission spirit. But as the work in the 
Association was now to be curtailed one-half, it was evi- 
dent that we could do more for State Missions. And so 
it was moved that, in this matter, as in all other benevo- 
lent work, we should co-operate with the Convention 
Board. That course was urged on tliese grounds : 



148 



FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 



First, That we owed it to the State Board for assist- 
ance rendered in the past. 

Second, That it was our duty, as we were able, to do 
more than was demanded by our Association. 

Third, That we ourselves needed to feel that we were 
in full sympathy and co-operation with the Baptist 
Brotherhood of the State. 




F. D. BAARS. 



Fourth, That there was danger of concentrating all 
our interest on the little work which we were doing, and 
thus, instead of the affections and sympathies of our peo- 
ple being enlarged, they would be contracted, and we 
would dwarf rather than grow. 

On the other side it was argued that it was best to con- 
fine our State Mission efforts to our own bounds until the 
work should be done. And, as the motion to commit 



DEPARTUBE. 149 

our work to the State Board meant, presumably, demands 
for more money* than otherwise, the motion was lost. 

All the ministers present, so far as they expressed 
themselves, were in favor of tlie motion. This action 
caused great regret among many of the best workers. It 
was felt to be a triumph for the party of retrogression. 

The time of separation was now at hand. On the third 
Sunday of September I met the people of Bethany for 
the last time, and the following Sunday I preached my 
last sermon at Salem. My closing service at both of 
these places was the pleasing one of baptizing a number 
of candidates. 

I was succeeded at Bethany and Monticello by Elder 
F. D. Baars, who had already been one or two years in 
South Mississippi. He took the care of the Bunker Hill 
and Columbia Churches also. 

Sunday night after leaving Salem I had the misfortune 
to stay with a bad friend, Dorch Benson. I had been 
under a mistake as to his character. I had somehow re- 
ceived the impression that he was a Christian, a standard 
member of Mt. Zion Baptist Church. Under pretense 
of accommodation he proposed to trade me a fine young 
mule, which would be more ready sale than my pony. 
The proposition seemed plausible, and, having perfect con- 
fidence in the man, I made the exchange, and lost my 
pony, worth one hundred and twenty-five dollars. The 
mule I discovered was badly diseased, and I gave it 
away. 

In a few days I took the train at Brandon in 
company with my sister. She was going to Summit to 
school, and I was bound for Louisville. We separated 



*This decision was not reversed until two years afterward. 



150 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

at Jackson. My purse was short; I gave her what 
money I had and borrowed means to defray my ex- 
penses. 

It had been my desire for some years to make a trip 
to Greenwood^ Le Flore County, in search of some rela- 
tives. My oldest brother and his wife had died near 
that town and left two little children. It had been five 
or six years since I had heard from them. There was 
now a branch road to Greenwood and the train leaving 
Jackson one morning was soon descending the hills that 
lower to the Mississippi Valey, then it turned up the 
Yazoo and along Tchula Lake. By twelve o^clock we 
were at Greenwood. The orphans were found livina: 
with relatives of their mother. I felt much like I was in 
dreamland. Some years before I had lived fifteen miles 
below here, and was now in the midst of a people from 
whom, on account of neglect, 1 had not heard in a half 
dozen years. I had seen my brother married here, 
and now the then joyous couple had gone, and two 
orphan children remained. I tarried in Greenwood 
two days, preaching both nights in a Presbyterian 
Church. On Friday morning I started across the swamp 
toward the Sunflower and Mississippi Rivers. I was 
carried by the mail-rider down the river to Shep- 
herdstown. While he was bailing out the boat and 
getting ready to cross, I w^as musing on the great valley. 
My reflections crystallized into the following lines, which 
I have recorded for future returns to this section : 

I stood on the bank of the dark Yazoo.^ 
Eolling his waves to the Southern blue. 
Wide lay the extended valley 'round, 



*The current traditional meaning of the Indian word, "Yazoo," when I 
lived on that river, was, " River of Death." 



LINES. 151 

Where once Atlantic did resound, 

And play with the giant hills of yore, 

That burst his billows with frantic roar. 

But now no floods the eye engage, 

Save when, at the loads of ice enraged. 

Sent down from the Northern hills of snow 

Mississippi's borders all o'erflow. 

And, wild with devastation high, 

He sweeps the swamps his breakers by. 

Far as the vision's orbit runs, 

Kise forests of cypress, ash and gums, 

O'er shading banks of bayous, breaks, 

Rivers, ravines, lagoons and lakes. 

Here, where insects sw^arm and panthers howl, 

Malarial demons stealth'ly prowl. 

They rear a death devoting brood, 

And spread disease for many a rood. 

Where once the Indian sparsely roamed. 

Abound in state Caucasian homes ; 

And, where their w^igwam's smoked, a few, 

African quarters lie thick in view. 

But ever, when the spring tides flow. 

Thousands seek tiie world of woe. 

For here the cross is not displayed. 

The banner of blood in folds is laid, 

And Satan holds in chains of hell 

A land which can not break his spell ; 

Defies the armies of heaven's king. 

To subjugate his rich domain. 

Oh, God, can it be by will of Thine ? 

The golden land of all this clime. 

In wealth of soil the very first. 

Shall prostrate lie, by the fiend accursed ? 

Thoa mad'st the bed of the red sea dry. 

And roirdst back the waves of the Jordan high, 

Thou smot'st the rock in the wilderness, 

And gav'dst at length a glorious rest. 

May it not be by power divine. 

The strength of sin shall quick decline ? 

Fountains pure in this earth be found ? 

The floods in their own channels bound ? 



152 FIVE YEARS IN SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

Stagnant waters drained and dried, 
Where deathly demons lurk and hide ? 
Miasmal jungles cut from the ground ? 
Health, joy and grace through Christ abound ? 
Oh, God, the power, the right is thine, 
Only the prayer of faith be mine. 
Thy fame o'er all this region run. 
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done. 

As I ascended the western bank I saw a man in a two- 
horse vehicle some two hundred yards distant, moving oflF. 
I waved my hat and shouted, but to no purpose. He 
was gone and with him my hope of conveyance across 
the Sunflower swamp. I inquired accurately the dis- 
tance : some said it was eighteen, some twenty miles. I 
could not afford to hire conveyance, and so I set out 
afoot. I was now passing through a country where 
twelve years before I had lived. Through the closes of 
these forests and along .the borders of these lakes still 
float the shadows of my influence. This, indeed, seems 
like memory's burying ground, where I have vivid 
recollections of a transient, yet eventful life. Here and 
there my father gathered congregations and constituted 
churches that had dispersed like morning clouds. 
Here my older brothers toiled for wealth that never 
came. Those were days of promise that ended in dis- 
appointment. We hunted the wild deer and the bear in 
the woods, and sought the black buffalo and white perch 
in the lakes. It was to me the time of life when child- 
hood blends with manhood, when fancy is busiest with 
the future, and there is no end to hope. 

But our neighbors have passed away as well as we. 
Death has played havoc in the country. Of all those 
whom I then knew almost none are left. 

I traveled about seven miles until I pnssed the limits 



ARCOSS THE SWAMP. 153 

of the settlements. A swamp of twelve or fifteen miles 
lay in front of me ; but just as I crossed Bear Creek, 
and was beginning to penetrate the dark swamp I ob- 
served a smoke rising ahead. As I neared the place 
there was a buggy standing loose, two mules grazing in 
the cane, and a man lying in the grass. " The tortoise 
and the hare/^ thought I. Halloo ! friend, do you go 
to sleep here in the forest ?^^ ^^Oh, I just laid down 
after a lunch to let my mules rest.^^ ^' Which way are you 
bound for?^^ '^Across the swamp. ^^ ^^ Then I will so- 
licit a seat in your buggy. '^ The favor was kindly 
granted, and we soon started. It was the same man 
who had left me at Shepherdstown. He had come across 
to bring a Campbellite minister. The road was little 
traveled and naturally rugged from the mire that hard- 
ened under the summer sun, so we jogged along slowly. 
He was a Campellite and I a Baptist. We spent a good 
part of the time discussing the significance of baptism. 
He complained that I insisted on having a hump on his 
back. My friend was somewhat plagued when he drew 
out a small flask from the floor of the vehicle, to find 
that the stopple had come out, and all the precious 
liquid had escaped. 

About twelve o'clock we reached the Sunflower River. 
A Mr. Rogers lived at the ferry, and I found that he 
and his wife were among the acquaintances of my 
father's family when we lived on the Yazoo. This 
gentleman, the next morning, carried me down the 
beautiful Sunflower, which, at this season, resembles a 
blue lake. 

At Johnsonville, I boarded a mule wagon and was 
soon jolting through the dust. A three miles' ride 
brought me to Bro. Overby's, an old friend and former 



154 FIVE YEARS IX SOUTH MISSISSIPPI. 

resident of Rankin County. His son had married my 
sister^ and to see her was the object of my visit. 

The next day I preached at Mt. Bayou church. It 
was the day for the Methodist minister, who preached 
here twice a month. It was a union church house. 
The Baptist Church was alive and had regular monthly 
services. Monday^ in company with the Methodist 
brother from Greenville, I took the train for Stoneville, 
and the same day, at one o'clock p. M. at Leland, I 
boarded a northbound train for Memphis. I reached 
that city about sunset, and had to lie over two hours. 
When I went to purchase my ticket for Louisville I 
lacked a dollar or two. While debating in my mind 
what should be the consequence the agent said, " There 
is a second-class ticket.^^ That was a considerable re- 
lief. Al)Out nine o^clock p. M. we entered on the run to 
Louisville. 

The session of the seminary had opened two weeks 
before. There were several Mississippi boys there. I 
dreaded the course much. I wished Louisville were 
ten thousand miles off, and I had a week to run it. In 
fact, I cared not much, consulting my feelings, whether 
I ever got there or not. I dreaded the course ; and far 
more, I dreaded the after-course. All my life heretofore 
I regarded as simply preparatory, and this would be the 
last preparatory course. This would bring on the real 
battle of life. It could not be staved off much longer. 
It would soon be determined what I should be, and 
what I should do. At Louisville I would come in con- 
tact with those among the greatest of living minds. I 
was going there, too, absolutely without means, and with 
no light responsibilities. 

The shadow of the future lay across my soul. I 



AT LOUISVILLE. 155 

never experienced so deep a sensation before. It was in 
the midst of such a feeling I approached the town, 
dreading to see the tall buildings come into view. But 
at length the train drew up at the long station, and 
about three o^clock p. m. I set foot on the pavements of 
the dreaded city. 



INTRODUCTION TO SUPPLEMENT. 

It is my fortune to have acquired, through several 
years of school teaching a pleasing interest in the 
younger folks. And there is no service of this work in 
which I could take more pleasure than in presenting to 
this class of friends some token of my regard which I 
might feel would be appreciated. 

Some of my former pupils have had the persistence to 
continue a correspondence with me during the whole 
of my seminary course. This has been to me a source 
of gratification ; and I can not better show my appre- 
ciation of their thoughtfulness, and my abiding interest 
in boys and girls at large than by publishing some of 
my answers which chance has preserved together with a 
few letters to other friends, all written during my first 
two years at Louisville. 

This same interest suggested a prepartion of a series of 
essays on simple subjects designed to impress lessons of 
a social and religious value. I have had time, however, 
to prepare only the four which are inserted. These, I 
trust, will, at least, serve as a proof to my youthful favor- 
ites that I still have an ambition to be their teacher and 
to do them good. Very truly, T. S. Powell. 

157 



SUPPLEMENT. 



LETTERS. 

Louisville, Ky., Nov. 16, 1886. 

To E M : 

Dear Friend— Your letter was received during my late illness. 
I was not able to reply immediately. I was sick about three 
weeks ; though not very bad at any time. I had been here only 
ten days, and had just become settled when I took the fever. 
Your letter afforded me great satisfaction. It is pleasant, 
especially in affliction, to be assured that we are kindly remem- 
bered. I am much pleased with the prospects. I am very hope- 
ful, and feel not the least discouraged on account of my sickness. 
I realize that I am in the midst of friends, though they may be 
strangers to me. There are about one hundred and seven stu- 
dents in the seminary. The young ministers are a fine corps of 
pupils, and our teachers can not be surpassed anywhere. I am 
studying the Old Testament, the New Testament, Greek, and 
Hebrew. I have just four studies, and all my recitations are in 
the forenoon, so that I have my evenings to spend in any way I 
please. I have not yet engaged in any ministerial work ; thous^h 
I shall find something to do before long. Several of the students 
have churches in the country, to which they preach regularly. 
Many do mission work in the city. I feel quite at home here, 
and expect to remain, if not providentially hindered, full four 
years. I should be glad to see all my friends around Bethany. 
Eemember me kindly to any who may inquire of me. I hope 
all are well, though hoping against hope, for I fear that some 

one will soon pass away. It may Bro. I . God bless him, 

he has been useful, and may he have the comforts of religion 
in his last days. I feel that I want to say God bless all those 
who were good and true to me for so long a time. I trust they may 
realize that they were sustaining the Lord's cause. Strive to be 

159 



160 LETTERS. 

useful and happy. Be cheerful. Live close to God. Serve 
Christ. Believe that the Lord is your friend. Be always sub- 
missive to His will. For He knows and does best. I shall be 
glad to hear from you again. 

Yours in Christian love and service, T. S. Powell. 



Louisville, Ky., Dec. 18, 1886. 
Jennie Powell, Summit, Miss. : 

Dear Sister — Your last letter was received some time ago, and 
I must confess to neglect in answ^ering, — sheer neglect. I was 
exceedingly glad to hear from you. It was a great relief to me 
to know that you were well. I am very much pleased at 
your progress. I know that you will improve your time. I 
would warn you against too close application. Take plenty of 
exercise. Be careful about your diet. Take plenty of time to 
eat. You are in good health now, I trust, and you do not know 
what it is to be an invalid ; but it is my opinion that nine-tenths 
of college graduates injure th ir health while they are at school, 
and after the health is once injured it can never be entirely re- 
covered. It will be to your, interest to be attentive to all relig- 
ious services. There is nothing that can so contribute to your 
happiness as true piety, and communion and fellow^ ship with 
God, and constant exercise in his services. Moreover, there is, 
I am sure, nothing so much esteemed in a young woman as 
purity of heart and life. 

If it would do any good, I would again express my regret that 
I am not able to furnish you all you need ; but instead of com- 
plaining, I suppose we should rather be giving thanks that our 
situation is so good as it is, for we are surrounded with people in 
far worse circumstances ; and I suppose that it is best as it is, for 
God is the best and wisest judge, and it is certain that if we 
trust and confide in him he will do wdth us w^hat is best. This 
is proved by his dealings with those who have been faithful in 
all the ages as well as at the present time. At the same time 
you may be sure that there is no one for whom I care so much 
as yourself, and that so long as I can do anything I will do all in 
my power to provide for y )U. But above all, I would have you 
devoted to God through the gospel of Christ, and consecrated. 
Then I should know that whatever may be your situation you 
will be safe and even happy. 



SUPPLEMENT. 161 

Send to Mr. C and get what you need. You need not 

send me the bill unless you wish. I hope you will get whatever 
is necessary to your comfort. I am in good health and am enjoy- 
ing life well. I am also much pressed with studies. Examina- 
tions will come in about five weeks. I hope I shall get through 
all right. I send the envelopes according to your request. 

If you want anything else special be free to let me know\ 
Your devoted brother, T. S. Powell. 



Louisville, Ky., Jan. 1, 1887. 

To E M : 

Dear Friend — I received your last favor some time ago, but 
have been so busy that I have deferred writing until now. I en- 
joyed Christmas exceedingly w^ell, remaining in my room all day 
and applying myself to my books. We are haA^ing such weather 
as you are a stranger to in Mississippi. To-day has been mis- 
sionary day at the seminary, as is the first day of each month, 
and to-morrow will be the pleasant Sabbath, the day of our 
Lord's resurrection. I have preached two or three times in the 
city at mission stations. I could not be satisfied if I did not 
preach some, though I am not engaged in any regular w^ork. I 
am led to hope that I shall become acquainted after awhile and 
make many friends. I preached last night at the *' highway 
mission." I have never before seen anything like the meetings 
held at that place. They have preaching every night by some 
one. It is on the side of one of the most public and business 
streets of the city, and men come right down into it, for it is 
lower than the sidewalk, being in the basement of a large build- 
ing. Strangers, drunkards gamblers, outcasts are attracted and 
drawn into the services, and many of them are brought to Christ 
and saved. This work is going on every day. I was never be- 
fore at a place where the work of soul-saving seemed so much 
like a business. Last Sunday I attended a mission school in the 
city, where there were over 250 children, little fellows most of 
them, wild and bad, as city children are apt to become. They 
were hard to control, and it was quite a sight. My course, as I 
realize, will be a great benefit to me. I would not miss it for 
anything and attempt to preach the gospel. Already I begin to 
feel stronger, and I think I shall be much better qualified to 



162 LETTERS. 

preach even after one session. The course of stud 3^ really de- 
lights me, and I shall try harder to master everything that I 
pass over than ever before. 

A happy year to you. My love to all. 

Yours truly, T. S. Powell.- 



ToL P : 

Dear Friend and Sister — Your letter was received a few days 
ago. I was gratified to know that you had not forgotten me. I 
trust you are in the enjoyment of life. It aflTords me pleasure to 
know that my pupils are doing welll. As you become older I 
hope you may grow in Christian grace, that you may live con- 
tinually nearer to God and in daily communion with him. You 
will find that there is something for you to do in the world, and if 
you take hold of your duty in faith and submission to God you 
will enjoy a good degree of pleasure. While it is not for all of 
us to wear an earthly crown, nor even to possess great wealth and 
live in splender and luxury, yet w^e ma)^ all aspire to an eternal 
crown of glory and honor, and to fullness of joy in the future 
world. I am glad to hear that the school is doing so well at 
Blountville. Yet I have no doubt it would be to your advantage 
to take some higher studies. I trust it will all be satisfactory. I 
came here with the purpose of slaying and being satisfied. I 
had no intention of being discouraged by anything. I am get- 
ting along as well as could be expected. I do not feel that I am 
settled yet, for I have not engaged in any w^ork except study. 
It has been difficult for me to catch up, since I came nearly a 
half a month late and was sick for several weeks. My health 
is now very good. I have all the ambition and energy that I 
ever felt, and look for a better and happier day. I will be glad 
to hear from you at any time when you feel like writing. Re- 
member me to all my friends — your papa and mamma espe- 
cially. Be assured of my best wishes and highest hopes. 

Yours very truly, T. 8. Powell. 



To C M : 

Dear C : — I was indeed gladly surprised at receiving your 

letter. I had looked for a letter from you until I had quite 
^iven it up. I am truly happy to know that you have not for- 



SUPPLEMENT. 163 

gotten me. I did not think tliat you could forget me ; for I am 
sure you know that I love you very much, and hold you in high 
esteem. It is delightful for me to think of you, and especially 
to recei' e assurances of your rejjard. I have not made the ac- 
quaintances of many boys and girls since I came here. I am 
especially fond of the company of children, and so it is a great joy 
to me to correspond with those whom I have known, and with 
w^hom I have been so intimate in past days. But while we are 
separated by so great a distance w^e can commune wdth one an- 
other, we can love the same Savior, w^orship and serve the same 
God. We can pray for one another and hoi i the same great 
purpose in view. I am glad to learn that you have a good school 
and Sunday school, and that you are attending them. These 
are certainly great privileges, and you should be grateful for 
them and improve them so as to give yourself every benefit. 
You are no doubt concerned about your future as to w^hat kind of 
a woman you will be after aw^hile, and what position you will oc- 
cupy in the world. This all wall depend on how you improve your 
opportunities. You should be careful to learn to do any kind of 
work and to make it pleasant to work, for we all have to work 
in this world. At the same time you must improve and culti- 
vate your mind by study, and your heart by serving God, and 
doing good to everybody. In this way you will become useful 
and happy in this life, and secure a crov/n of everlasting life. I 
would like to see you all very much. I hope w^e shall meet 
again some time. My session will be out in about six weeks. I 
expect to stay here the most of the sunimer. Write me again 
when you feel like it. I shall be glad to hear from you. Good-by 
for this time. Truly, T. S. Powell. 



Louisville, Ky., April 17, 1887. 

To T B : 

Bear T ; — It has been some time since I received your 

last letter. ' You must not think I have been careless about an- 
swering. I have several correspondents, and sometimes, being 
so much pressed with duties, it takes me a good w^hile to get 
around. If you want to make me happy just let the boys and 
girls whom I used to teach w^ite to me. I enjoy such corre- 
spondence more than anything in the world. Your letter to Mr. 
Chastain was handed to me, and it gave me additional pleasure 



164 LETTERS. 

to know that you felt so much interest in me. The Lord is still 
permitting me to live, and I am enjoying the world very well 
just now. The new spring always has a charm. We do n't have 
much shrubbery in the city, but the trees are putting out their 
leaves, and the yards are receiving a green carpet ; a few birds 
flit about in the branches of the trees and on the fences and 
doorsteps. I feel that I want to get o.t in the woods and hold 
converse with nature. It always seemed to me that the trees, 
when they are busy putting out their leaves and growing so still, 
can almost talk, and if they can not speak with an audible voice 
they certainly speak in their growth and budding and bloom- 
ing. They show forth the praise of Him who made them. 

It has been quite dusty for some time. The w^eather has 
been very fine, but yesterday it rained. It is cloudy and drip- 
ping to-day, and a little cool. I should like to be down on White- 
sand and see the farmers at work. I have n't seen any farm 
w^ork in so long. I have been through many of these dusty 
manufactories ; have seen them making barrels, plows, stoves. 
The stoves are molded in the dirt. But the most amusing thing 
I have noticed is making bottles and jars. They get a roll of 
melted glass on the end of 'an iron tube four or five feet long 
and then blow it as you would blow a soap bubble, then thrust 
it in the mould, and the bottle is made. 

The session will be out in six weeks. The Southern Baptist 
Convention meets here on the 6th of May. I am working very 
hard, not making much money, but enjoying myself quite well. 
I feel that I shall appreciate a rest. Write again when you feel 
like it. I shall be glad to hear from you. Give my love to all. 
Truly, ^ T. S. Powell. 



Louisville, Ky., April 22, 1887. 

To K. L : 

Dear K ; Only a few days ago I received your letter. It 

thrilled me with pleasure. I have constantly thought of you 
with happiness, and I suppose I shall never forget you. You 
seem to me to be a very nice and good girl, and I have always 
loved you very much. It is a great privilege for me to write to 
you, especially since I know that you remember and love me in 
return. I suppose you will be interested to know something of 
my stay here. I found a great many strangers here, and Louis- 



SUPPLEMENT. 165 

ville was a new place to me for some ;time. I have made 
many acquaintances though, and feel more at home. I 
have not, however, become so intimately associated with any of 
the boys and girls here, and those I left behind me still have my 
undivided heart. I trust you all enjoy yourselves, and spend a 
pleasant time at Blountville, and in your homes. I feel much in- 
terested in the school. I hope it may become permanently estab- 
lished. I trust you find it pleasant to attend Sunday school also. 
How are you progressing in your studies ? Do you ever feel that 
you love the Lord, now-a-days ? I hope you will give Him your 
heart and become His humble and devoted servant. You are 
just now stepping into the highway of life, passing from child- 
hood to womanhood. I suppose you would be tempted 
to smile if I should call you a woman, but it will not 
be long till childhood and girlhood will be passed. And you 
should be interested that your future years shall be even more 
happy than the days which have already passed. How can you be 
assured of this? Who knows what danger and darkness lie in 
the great future ? If you are good and useful, if you give your 
heart to God and your hand to His service, He will guide you all 
the way, and if you are industrious and intelligent, careful to im- 
prove all your opportunities to benefit yourself and others, you 
will be happy. Do not hate work, for we must all work, and 
could not be happy without it. I shall alw^ays be glad to receive 
a letter from you. Feel free to w^rite me. Eemember me kiadly 
to all the children, and now, good-bye. 

T. S. Powell. 



Louisville, Ky., Nov. 1, 1887. 

ToC M : 

Dear Friend : — I w^as very much gratified to have a letter from 
you, only a few days ago. I am glad that you redeemed your 
promise, and I am sure that if you could realize the pleasure it 
gives me to have a letter from you, it would not be very irksome 
for you to write. There is much in sympathy, and when you 
grow older you will find that the friendship of the young is 
of the very purest and truest kind. It is for this reason that 
I love so much to correspond with the children whom I have 
known and instructed. Pleasant relation^; w^ere formed in those 
associations, and lasting impressions were made w^hich I trust 



166 LETTERS. 

will be productive of good in the days to come. It has been a 
month since school opened here. I have given myself unreserv- 
edly to my studies. To-day has been Missionary Day. The first 
day of every month is given up to the missionary meeting. We had 
speeches from two Missionaries to-day, one from Rome, the 
other from South America. We have a large number of young 
ministers h^re. We all, or nearly all, room in the same building, 
and take our meals in the same dining-hall. If you could be 
present some time you would think it a jolly crowd of preachers. 
Mr. Bush is my room-mate. He is getting along well. There are 
five or six hundred medical students here, too, but they do not 
live at the same place. Almost anything is going on here ; but I 
seldom have time to go to any entertainments. I presume they 
have no school at Blountville. You spoke of Miss L 's teach- 
ing, I hope she will do well. If jon have an opportunity to at- 
tend Sunday-school I trust you will not miss it at any time. And 
do not fail to go to church every time you can ; go up near the- 
pulpit, and take part in the service. Do all the good you can in 
every way ; helping every good cause and everybody, for this is 

what we should live for. I hope E B will do w^ell. I 

must write to her. I tender my sympathies to your mother in 
her sorrow. We must, at some time, leave loved ones to mourn 
for us. We should live a good and useful life, that we may be 
prepared, and that we may leave here a good example. 

As ever, your friend, 

T. S. Powell. 



Louisville, Ky., Jane 8, 1887. 

ToL P : 

Dear Friend: — I think I am due you a letter. It has been 
some time since yours was received, but the memory of it still 
lingers in my mind. I have not answered so soon as I 
should have done, but it affords me much pleasure to write 
now. The session of the Seminary has closed, and nearly all 
the boys are gone. A few remain to watch over the missions 
in the city. I guess I shall remain here nearly, if net all the 
summer. I enjoy city life more and more, w^ith its racket. Lou- 
isville looks much better since spring opened. It has got to be a 
right pretty city, some parts of it are very fine. They are quite 
well supplied with shade trees. At this season they resemble a 



SUPPLEMENT. 167 

forest. I feel much more easy since examinations are over, and 
I am not crowded with study ; yet I have plenty of hard work to 
do, and it is growing warm. I spend my time in studying, writ- 
ing and selling books. I expect to begin some missionary work 
in the city, among tlie working men, pretty soon. I have some 
hopes of visiting Mississippi in August, but I can not divine yet 
what the future will bring about. It certainly would afford me 
much pleasure to meet so many friends. I learned through Mr. 

W that Bethany has been having more trouble. It is to be 

hoped that a better day will dawn in the future. The children have 
gll quit writing to me. I do n't .know why, unless I write them such 

loving letters. I have not heard from Miss K in some time. I 

think I am due her a letter. I have treated her about like I have 
you ; but I must do better. I hope you are enjoying life. If not, 
I am sure it is because you are not trying. Trust in the Lord 
and do good. Live holy and true, exercising faith in God and 
obedience to all His commands. I would be glad to see you. 
Let us hope we shall meet soon.J 

As ever, very truly, 

T. S. Powell. 



Mrs. H. C. Crane: 

My Bear Sister : — I was much gratified at receiving your very 
welcome letter. It reminds me of old times, and, though circum- 
stances have changed, and we are far apart, yet still the tie of 
brother and sister binds together across the country. Sacred will 
be this bond till death. I am glad that you are so hopeful. While 
you have some difficulties in the way, you have much to en- 
courage you. You have a promising family of children to rear, 
and to rear well a family is the highest work that a woman can 
do. In this way she may serve her country and honor her Crea- 
tor. I hope you will have some religious enjoyment and so- 
cial pleasure. Religion will do more to soften the rough places of 
this life than all else besides. The only hope that I ever have is 
in God, my Savior. He has never left nor forsaken me, and 
I am persuaded that He is ever with those who trust fully in 
Him. With best wishes, and hoping to hear from you again when 
convenient, I remain Your brother, 

T, S. Powell. 



168 LETTERS. 

Louisville, Ky., Jan. 12, 1888. 
Mr. W. E. C: 

Dear Brother — Your kind letter was received some weeks ago. 
I was glad to hear from you, to learn that you had gathered your 
crop, and that your prospect is some brighter than last year. 
This is a world of hard work to those who accomplish anything, 
and sometimes when we work hard we do not reap the profits 
which we would like to reap, yet we should not be discouraged. 
Honest industry will succeed. All the successful men of the 
world have been hard workers, as a rule, and besides we can not 
be happy unless we are industrious. Our Saviour did not de- 
spise labor, for he worked at a carpenter's benc^h. I hope that 
you will be encouraged to set out on the new year with cheerful- 
ness and determinination to be more successful this year, 
trusting to a generous and kind Providence to reward your 
efforts. Hoping that God may bless you in all your relations, 
I remain, as ever. Your brother, T. S. Powell. 



Louisville, Ky., April 11, 1888. 
To T. B.: 

Dear T ; — I guess you have wondered what prevented 

me for so long from answerinsr your kind letter. I plead guilty 
to the fault of neglect, but I am glad that I have the privilege 
of answering now. I have been more busy this year than 
usual; and the session is nearing the close. My examinations 
have already commenced, and for the next six weeks I shall not 
have much rest, except in slumber. Our winter seemed to me 
the severest I ever experienced, though they say it was not 
so severe as last year. It seemed more so to me. We have 
moved into our new building since I wrote you, I believe. I am 
occupying a room to myself. I have not had a room-mate since 
Bro. Bush left. The new building is a fine one, very convenient 
in every respect I hope to remain in the city next summer, but 
am not sure that I can do so. I do n't know either whether I 
can make my visit to Mississippi or not. We are having quite 
pleasant whether now. I suppose we shall have no more very 
bad. I receive once and awhile a letter from some of my pupils 
on Whitesand. I am always very glad to hear from them. I 
am gratified to know that the schools have been doing well this 
year. I have had some thoughts lately that may be you would 



SUPPLEMENT. 169 

become a minister. Have you decided yet what will be your oc- 
cupation in life ? The farmers, I suppose, are now busy plant- 
ing. I trust they will have pleasant summer showers. I hope 
that I may be permitted to spend a few weeks in the company 
of friends of other days in that section, but I do not know. I 
have a letter from Mr. Baars this evening. He seems to be 
pretty well satisfied, except that he complains of his work being 
confining. I would be glad to meet with him in South Missis- 
sippi next summer. Begging pardon for delaying so long, I will 
close. I hope to hear from you when convenient. 

Yours very truly, T. S. Powell, 

Seminary Building. 



Louisville, Ky., March 16, 1888. 

ToL M : 

Dear Friend L : — It has been so long since I received your 

letter you must have concluded that I am not going to write to 
you this time. I am sometimes neglectful, though I am sure I 
ought not to be, when you are so good to write to me. AYe have 
had the severest winter I ever saw. For about six weeks the 
boys were skating all over Louisville. I never saw any skating 
before. The children up here have some sport that you down 
there are ignorant of, such as skating and sliding down snow 
hills. But it begins to look now a little like spring is coming. 
The farmers in your country are plowing and planting, but it is 
yet too early fur that u}) here. I suppose you have been going 
to school some, and I trust you have learned much. Do you 
still hold out a good Christian ? You will have many a hard 
struggle with yourself, but try to follow the Lord Jesus Christ. 
Learn to study the Bible while you are young. I have heard 
some grown people say that they could not understand the 
Bible. If you would understand the Bible, you must study 
it, and if you don't begin to study it w^hile young you 
will never be much of a Bible student. The Sunday-school, 
as well as the church services, will help you to understand 
the Bible. I trust you have made the acquaintance of 
Mr. Eobinson. If you have not, do so the first opportunity. 
Hereafter make it a point to get acquainted with your pastor. 
Let him know that you are a member of his flock, and do not be 
either afraid or ashamed of him. 



170 LETTERS. 

My health is very good. In three months this session will 
be out. I do n't know whether I shall see you next summer or 
not. I hope so. My love to all. 

Your friend and teacher, 

T. S. Powell. 



Louisville, Ky., March 16, 1888. 

To I B : 

Dear I : You wrote to me a good while ago, and I have neg- 
lected to answer. I have kept putting it off because of so many 
duties, but I have not forgotten you. I still think of you, and 
I shall never forget how you looked when you were my pupil. 
I suppose you have been going to school this year. I trust that 
you are learning fast. Do you goto Sunday-school anywhere? 
You ought to go to Sunday-school as well as to other religious 
meetings every time you can. Learn to study the Bible while 
you are young, and you can understand it, and it will do you 
good all your life. Be very kind to your parents. Obey them in 
everything; try to help them. Be kind also to your brothers and 
sisters and playmates. Kemember that God always sees you; 
and live and act so as to please him. Be a good girl. I want to 
write a few words to Ella. So I will close. If you will write me 
again I will not be so long answering. I am always glad to hear 
from my pupils. Your teacher, T. S. Powell, 

Seminary Building. 



Mrs. E IS : 

Dear Friend : — You used to be my pupil, and I hope our 
friendship will never be broken. I am glad to hear that you are 
happily married, and may your future life ever be as pleas- 
ant as the last few months have doubtless been. Be faith- 
ful in everything. Make home happy, for unless home is pleas- 
ant, life will be miserable. Be constant, if possible, in your at- 
tendance on church. Do all you can to help along the cause of 
Christ, and in doing good you will be happy. I do not expect 
you to answer these lines. With best wishes, 

Farewell, 

T. S. Powell. 



SUPPLEMENT. 171 

L0UISVIJ.LE, Ky., May 10, 1888. 
K L : 

Dear Friend K ; — From the length of time I have taken to 

answer your kind letter, I fear you will think that I did not en- 
joy it, but I assure" you I was very glad, not to say happy, to 
hear from you. There is nothing can give me more satisfaction 
than to know that I am remembered by those wdth w^hom I have 
been pleasantly associated in past days. I have enjoyed very 
fine health all this session, but I have worked harder than ever 
before, for the reason that I have had more to do. My work, 
however, for this session is almost done, and I shall have an- 
other long vacation. I shall remain at Louisville, with, perhaps, 
a short visit to Mississippi. I have been going out in the coun- 
try to preach almost every Sunday for a good while, and I have 
enjoyed it very much. Louisville is very pretty at this season 
of the year. I never get tired of walking around and looking at 
the beautiful buildings, green yards, and shade trees. I have 
just been walking this evening. The city never seemed more 
lovely to me. I trust that you have made good progress in 
school this year ; and may I not think, too, that you have given 
your heart to the Lord in his service? I hope I shall have the 
pleasure of seeing you a Christian. I have much good hope 
of you. If you improve your time and all your 'opportunities 
you will not regret it in the future. 

Expecting that I may see you before many months, and that I 
shall hear from sooner, I must close. 

Very truly, T. S. Powell, 

Seminary Building. 



Louisville, Ky., May 17, 1888. 

ToL P : 

Dear Friend : — I believe I am due you two letters. I will try 
to pay part before I retire to-night. I have been so extremely 
busy this session that I have scarcely taken time to write to my 
most respected friends. The session is now nearly out, only 
about fifteen days remain. My examinations are all over but 
one, which comes next Wednesday. I am making my arrange- 
ments to remain here this summer, if possible. I have not tried 
to make other arrrangements. If I should fail to stay here I 
reckon I will play out. I do n't know whether I shall be able to 



172 LETTERS. 

visit Mississippi in the summer or not. I hope I may. I shall 
spend a right pleasant summer here, provided I get enough 
churches to support me. I have only one church at present, 
and that a small one. I have some more in prospect, but 
I can not be sure. If I am able to carry out my design, I 
shall remain here two years yet. I can complete the full course 
next year, but I want to stay and take an extra course. This 
will be my last school and I am loath to leave it. Several of the 
graduating class are going to foreign fields this summer and fall. 
Bro. Chastain has applied for work in Mexico. Five have been 
appointed for that field. We have not yet learned their names 
I do n't know whether he is one or not, but I presume he is 

You have certainly learned of Miss K 's marriage. I have 

no acquaintance with the gentleman, but I presume she has 

done well. I was made glad to learn of Mr. B 's joining 

church ; yet it was sad that he lost his daughter. No doubt that 
had some influence in determining his action. He always ap- 
peared to me to be an honest man. Mr. J L , I learn 

happened to a serious accident. I trust the Lord may yet bring 
him to repentance and duty. 

May it be my^lot. 

When August grins a smile, 
To greet a spot. 

Distant many miles, 
And know again 

What 'tis to drink 
Unmingled joy 

From friendship's cooling brink. 

Truly, T. S. Powell, 

S. B. T. Seminary. 



Louisville, Ky., May 18, 1888. 

ToE M : 

Dear Friend :— It has been quite a long time since, one morn- 
ing, I was made happy by your letter. It was unexpected. You 
had not written to me in so long that I had despaired of hearing 
from you again. I guess I have fully taken vengeance for the 
long delay of yours, though it had not been my purpose to retal- 
iate. Our session is now nearly out. I trust you have succeeded 
well with your studies, and that you have been well pleased with 



SUPPLEMENT. 173 

Blue Mountain. I had a letter from Mr. Baars sometime 
since, which I have not yet answered, but I must write to 
him soon. I wonder if he is not getting tired of teaching ? . Should 
I go to Lawrence this summer I would be glad to meet him there, 
as well as yourself and your mother. I had a letter from Bro. 

W ten days ago. He wrote that Bro. B M is still in 

bad health. I hope I may see him again. My sister is still at 
Summit. If she can continue next year I presume she will com- 
plete her course. Miss M H , I believe, graduates this 

Commencement. Bro. Lomax is to preach the Commencement 
sermon. I should like to hear him. 

Come again, and welcome ever. 

To the souPs lone interview. 
For the deeds forgotten never, 

For the thoughts that come with you. 

As ever, T. S. Powell, 

S. B. T. Seminary. 



THE RECOLLECTION. 

Do you know that each of us is setting out on a jour- 
ney? It is the journey of life. All who have lived be- 
fore us have made this journey, each one by himself. 
We may learn something of a way which we have not 
traveled, by talking with those who have passed over it. 
Here is an old man who has almost finished this journey. 
He is now near its end. Let us hear w^hat he says about 
it. He is so very old that what he has passed over 
seems to him like a dream. 

He remembers a time when he played about a lovely 
house. It was spring; roses were in bloom; bees and 
humming-birds gathered sweet liquids from the flowers ; 
mocking-birds sang in the shade trees near the house, 
and larks and patridges w^histled in the fields. 

He worked some in the garden with his mother, but 
the work was not hard. He was then a little boy, and 
he thought much of when he w^ould be a man. Broth- 
ers and sisters and other children played with him. 

After this he was in the fields where field-hands were 
at work, and was helping, now planting corn, and now 
plowing or hoeing, then gathering potatoes or picking 
cotton. Sometimes he wanted to get out of this work, 
for it w^as harder than play. He preferred to chase the 
hare with hounds, to trap for birds; and, when the dog- 
wood w^as in bloom, to decoy the fish with a hook and 
worm from their watery beds. 

Then he remembers attending a house far off by itself. 
There w^ere many children of every size and age. The 

174 



THE RECOLLECTION. 175 

boys played with ball and bat. The girls had play houses 
under the bushes. When all were seated in the house 
with books, and slates, and pencils, a man walked the 
floor with a rod in his hand, and frowned on the idlers. 

The scene has changed. He is at a graveyard. The 
mounds of dirt mark the places of the dead. The white 
marble slabs stand up to say that death comes to all. 
Many people are weeping as a coffin is lowered into the 
grave. 

From here he wanders. Night comes on him. He is 
lost, but a friend comes to him and leads him out of the 
thicket of darkness. It is day, and he finds himself at 
another house. The people in the house are singing. 
The song w^hich they sing is : 

*' Amazing grace ! how sweet the sound 
That saved a wretch like rae ; 
I once was lost, but now am found, 
Was blind, but now I see.'^ 

Again they sing : 

^* There is a fountain filled with blood. 
Drawn from Immanuel's veins. 
And sinners plunged beneath that flood. 
Lose all their guilty stains." 

They read from a book : ^^ Come unto me all ye that la- 
bor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 
Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek 
and lowly in spirit, and ye shall find rest unto your souls.^^ 

He was in trouble, but here he finds one that comforts 
him and leads him to take part in the singing, and so he 
becomes happy. 

After this he was the owner of a home. He had a 



176 SUPPLEMENT. 

cheerful and pleasant wife. His own little children were 
around him. They made life joyful. The days then 
were bright and happy. 

Again he has moved. He is in a great city with its 
noise and turmoil of business. People are crowded thick 
about him. His children are scattered. Cares and 
troubles come. He has successes, but he has also failures 
and losses. But he has now passed through it all. His 
fortune is changed and he is left all alone. He thinks he 
is soon to make another move which will be his last. He 
expects then to meet many whom he has known and 
loved in other days, and be forever at rest. 

Now I must explain to you this old man^s recollec- 
tion. The time when he played about the homestead 
was innocent, joyful childhood, the early morning of life. 
Then the world was young, beautiful and lovely ; and 
when he worked in the fields, was boyhood. Every one 
must learn to work. He who does not work is of no ac- 
count. The school-house comes next, where there is 
much pleasure in play with school-mates, and here also 
wisdom is learned to guide us rightly through life. And 
then the graveyard, alas ! That means that sorrow and 
death come to all. But if we trust in God, He will guide 
us. His spirit will lead us through all the trials. The 
church-house stands next on the way, where God is wor- 
shiped, and where Jesus Christ, the friend of sinners, 
meets with those who are sorrowing on account of sin, 
and gives them peace, if they will believe on Him. 
Then he has a quiet home, as most of us hope to have at 
some time. 

The great city is the business of the world, with its 
cares, confusions, and disappointments. The move which 
he is soon to make is to the other world, for there is an- 



THE EECX)LLECTION. 177 

other life after this. We, too, must make this move. 
All the dead shall be there. We shall see the angels. 
We shall meet God, and there shall be no more change 
or passing away. That life comes immediately after this. 



THE HOTEL. 

The hotel, you know, is the house in the city where 
travelers stay, and such people as have no home. Most 
persons who come to the the city on short business stop 
there. You would find people there from New York, 
California, Canada, Mexico and other parts of the coun- 
try. You might find some also from Europe, and a few 
from Asia. All classes are represented; farmers who 
have come to sell their produce ; merchants from other 
parts of the country who are buying goods, and all 
other kinds of business men and travelers. Some are 
poor, scarcely able to pay their bills, others are im- 
mensely rich ; some, too, are the very best Christians, 
while others make no pretensions to religion. 

Some stay long enough to take one meal, some stop 
a day and night, others again remain a week or a month, 
and some few a year or more, but it is not a home for 
any, except the proprietor. They meet, mingle together 
for a short time, and part to meet no more. 

Let us imagine that we are going into a hotel. Im- 
mediately on entering we are met by the porter, who 
takes our baggage, which he is to keep safe for us. In 
front is a large counter with an open book upon it and 
a clerk standing behind. We must go thither and 
register. 

When we have written our names on the book, with 
the place we are from, the clerk assigns us a room, 
where we can now go and make ourselves at home. 

Just over there is a stand where cigars and such like 

178 



THE HOTEL. 179 

are sold. Some hotels have also a place where strong 
drink is dealt out, but we have no money to spend so 
vainly. 

We will now entertain ourselves for a few moments 
looking at the people who come in. Here comes first a 
number of drummers. They frequent the hotels and 
form the largest class of travelers. Each has a large 
valise or grip-sack. Some have two or three. Their 
business is to sell goods. They are much like peddlers. 
The difference is that they carry samples of the goods 
which they sell and take orders from merchants for 
large quantities, while the peddler carries all his goods 
with him and sells to anybody. One man is traveling 
for a dry goods house in New York. He has calicoes, 
linens and other articles of clothing. Another repre- 
sents a hardware house in Connecticut. He carries 
knives, scissors and other kinds of cutlery. Another 
still is working for a jewelry house in Philadelphia. 
.He deals in breastpins rings, watches, etc. 

Here comes next a company ot tourists, school teach- 
ers, preachers and others who have a rest from business. 
It is the season of vacation, and they are on the way to 
some watering place in the East. They will, no doubt, 
-visit the city of Washington and Niagara Falls. They 
may go out to the far West, and take a look at the na- 
tional park. Here comes also a party of stage players. 
They travel through the cities like showmen and make 
money by acting. 

But who are these copper-colored strangers? They 
are Japanese travelers, who are on a tour of sight-seeing 
through the United States. They are rather swarthy, 
but when dressed in our style they look much like 
American gentlemen. 



180 SUPPLEMENT. 

Going up a flight of stairs we enter a spacious parlor, 
richly carpeted and furnished with soft seats. This is 
the sitting-room of the hotel. It is now almost 
vacant. A few ladies are conversing softly. Away 
off to one side are a young man and lady. It 
is a missionary and his * wife. They have just been 
married and are expecting to go to Africa soon. The 
lady says she is anxious to go, that she has always felt 
an attachment to that people. 

From the parlor a door opens into the dining hall, 
where we shall have business after awhile. 

Let us now take a seat in the parlor and meditate on 
what we have seen. These people we do not know. 
They are strangers to us, but each one has his peculiar 
history and his own business. Each has his prospects, 
and rushes to that destiny which is before him. They 
keep good order. Thqy are not lawless or unruly. 
This would not be allowed. If there should be any 
misconduct the proprietor would have the disorderly per- 
son arrested and sent to jail. 

They are also very polite. They seem to be on their 
best behavior, for each man desires to be considered a 
gentleman, and every woman wishes others to think she 
is a lady. They have learned, too, that happiness de- 
pends on mutual respect. Hence they are considerate 
of the feelings and wishes of others. 

Reader, this world is a great hotel. We have come 
into it to stay awhile. We meet all kinds of people. 
We do not fully know any of them. Even our most 
intimate friends have secrets which they tell to no ane. 
While of this we may be sure that each has his interest, 
his hopes and fears and his final destination. Some will 

*Rev. A. Watkins of Mississippi. 



THE HOTEL. 181 

stay here longer than others. But none will stay for- 
ever. Every one must leave the world alone. 

The world is not our place of dwelling. The pro- 
prietor of this hotel is the Lord God. We are in his 
power and subject to his laws. His all-seeing eyes are 
beholding us. His angels are about us. For any 
wrong-doing we shall be surely punished, both in this 
world and in the future, for he is able to be cast both 
soul and body into hell, or bring them to a happy and 
eternal life. 

We must know, then, that this world and all that is 
in it with ourselves belong to God. For we are de- 
pendent; and as we brought nothing into the world 
with us, we can not hope to carry anything away. It 
is our duty, therefore, to live in the fear of God, with 
the purpose to honor him. 

This we can do : 

First, by abstaining in our conduct from everything 
that is sinful, injurious or disgraceful. 

Secondly, by loving our fellow-men so as not to do 
them any harm, but rather to do them every good in 
our power, for their interests are as dear and sacred as 
our own. 

Thirdly, by submitting ourselves to God in heart 
and life, walking according to his commandments, con- 
fessing to Him our sins, oifering thanksgivings for all 
that we enjoy, and in praying for his blessings in all 
things. : 

You may now retire to your rooms, and sea to it that 
you conduct yourselves rightly in this great hotel. 



THE INSTRUMENT. 

An instrument is something to work with. The ax 
is an instrument used for cutting wood ; the scissors for 
cutting cloth; the plow for stiring the soil. 

There are instruments for every kind of work. The 
farmer uses plows and hoes. The carpenter needs planes, 
chisels and saws. The surgeon must have knives and 
lances and hammers. The shoemaker bores holes with 
an awl, sews with a needle, and drives pegs with a ham- 
mer. He makes shoes on an instrument called the last. 

It is important that an instrument should be in good 
condition. You can not cut with a dull ax or saw. 
You could not bore with a blunt awl, nor sew with a 
broken needle. The hammer must have its face square ; 
a chain must have every link sound. 

The instruments which I have mentioned have been 
made by man. They are of great use. We could not 
well get along without them. But there are others 
which God has given to us much more valuable. 
Among these is the eye, which is an instrument for see- 
ing. Many people are deprived of sight. Not a few 
have never had eyes. They seem to get along and en- 
joy themselves quite weU'where they have had a chance, 
yet it seems to us, who have the pleasure of looking on the 
beautiful world, that this would be a dreary life if we 
could not see. 

The ear is an instrument by which sound is produced. 
Through it come all the voices of music and the tumult 
of the world. 

182 



SUPPLEMENT. 183 

The tongue is quite a noisy instrument. It often gives 
much trouble, because it speaks what ought not to be heard. 

The instrument with which we work is the hand. It 
is a wonderfully made machine. It is suited to a thou- 
sand kinds of work. Nothing more clearly shows the 
wisdom of God. 

The heart is one of the instruments which God has 
placed in the bosom to keep us Jiving. By its regular 
beat the blood is kept flowing through the arteries and 
building up the waste places of the body. The blood is 
the life of the body, and when the heart no longer sends 
it through the arteries we can not live. 

But the heart is spoken of also as the seat of love. 
In this sense it is even more important, since it is the 
condition of the heart that determines what kind of 
person one is. We are good or bad according to what 
we love. If we love bad company and bad habits it 
proves that we are not good, for the heart is not right. 
How shall the heart be made and kept right? Only by 
giving it to God. He made it and he can keep it. If 
the heart is right then our conduct will be right and we 
shall be safe from the ruin of sin. 

Another instrument which God has placed in the 
bosom is conscience, or the moral sense. This monitor 
discerns right and wrong; and warns us to do the right 
and shun the wrong. You can do nothing worse than to 
violate your conscience. It will surely bring shame, 
sorrow and suffering. The Scottish poet. Burns, gives 
this good advice : 

'' Its slightest touches instant pause ; 
Debar all side pretences, 
And resolutely keep its laws. 
Uncaring cmsequenoes." 



184 THE INSTRUMENT. 

The last instrument of which I shall speak is the 
mind. It is the instrument used to think with. You 
will see that it is very important. We can do nothing 
without thought. The fine dwelling houses must be 
framed in mind before the workman could fashion it 
into wood or stone. That striking picture was seen by 
the artist before he painted it. So the farm must be 
laid out and cultivated in the mind before a plow is 
started. The great general who wins battles must lay 
out his campaigns before he marches^ and he must make 
a plan of each battle before it is fought. 

The brain work is the most important part of the 
work. The most ignorant man can work with his 
hands^ but he needs some one to tell him what to do. 
It is more desirable to know what to do, and how to do 
it, than it is to be able to do the work after you are 
told. Why do some men succeed better than others un- 
der the same conditions ? One reason is that they manage 
better. To manage well requires a trained mind. Now 
the mind, as well as the heart and conscience, may be im- 
proved just as the ground is made better by cultivation. 
You must keep -your mind bright and sharp if you 
would do good brain work. The mind may be culti- 
vated first by study. The study of books gives exercise 
to the mind and strengthens it. Hence we see the 
necessity of boys and girls going to school and worrying 
over arithmetic, grammar and spelling lessons. Read- 
ing good and instructive books at home also will make 
one intelligent. 

Secondly, the mind is cultivated by experience in 
business. If a boy is going to be a farmer it is neces- 
sary that he should learn early to work on the /arm. 
He must plow and ditch, and split rails, and make 



SUPPLEMENT. 185 

fence. If a girl would be a nice housekeeper she must 
do housework. 

A third way to cultivate the mind is by conversation. 
By frequently talking with sensible persons our minds 
will be made brighter and stronger. The Bible says, 
"As iron sharpeneth iron, so a man sharpen eth the coun- 
tenance of his friend. ^^ Finally, in order to have a good 
mind, it is very necessary to keep in good health, by- 
using good diet, prudent care of oneself and bodily ex- 
ercises. It is very common for young people to think 
nothing of preserving their health. They are either not 
wise enough to know the value of health or they are 
vain enough to suppose that nothing can make them 
invalids. In this way they make a great mistake and 
leave down a gap for disease to come in. The care of 
one^s health is necessary to a strong and vigorous mind 
as well as to a stout and energetic body. 



THE KEY. 

You know what a key is for. It is used to turn a 
lock. When the lock is turned the door may be opened, 
and you may go in or out. Every lock has its own key. 

The dwelling house key is most important. When all 
leave home the house must be locked in order to keep 
thieves out. Another key is the crib or barn key. It 
keeps the corn, hay and oats safe for the live stock. The 
trunk key prevents our clothing, letters and such private 
articles from being rumaged by other people. 

A key which is not pleasing to think ot is the jail key. 
It bolts a thick, heavy door, and holds the prisoner be- 
hind the bars. The man who has charge of the keys of 
a prison, is himself called the Turnkey. The watch or 
clock key is an exception to the rule. It does not turn 
a lock, but is used for winding up the weight or spring, 
so that the time-piece will run. 

The keys of which 1 have been speaking are very val- 
uable, but there are others of even more value, since 
they open the door to good character, success and happi- 
ness. One of the most valuable worldly possessions is 
good health, and the way to good health is found by a 
key. The key is, '' take care of yourself. ^^ If you keep 
this key in good use you are not apt to become an inva- 
lid. Most diseases are brought on by failing to take 
proper care of oneself 

Knowledge is very desirable. It gives power, in- 
fluence and much happiness. The key to knowledge 
is study and observation. Wisdom is more desirable 

186" 



THE KEY. 187 

than knowledge. One may have knowledge without 
wisdom, but he can not have wisdom without knowl- 
edge. The key to wisdom is application, or putting into 
practice what you know is right and best. The key to 
popularity is flattery, not in the sense of undue praise, 
but in the sense of appreciating others, and, in a proper 
way, making your appreciation felt. No one can be pop- 
ular who can not appreciate the excellent qualities of 
others as well as overlook their faults. But this is a 
dangerous key, for, while it is a good thing to be deserv- 
pedly popular, some persons, in seeking to become popu- 
lar, so pander to other people, and give up their own 
principles, that they are worthless and lose the very 
praise which they hoped to obtain. I am quite sure that 
it is not best for a young man or a young lady to seek 
popularity; but rather to avoid giving offense and to 
strive to be kind and useful, and to do right. 

The key to respectability is right conduct. 

Perseverence is the key to success. If you are earnest 
enough to hold on and keep working at your purpose, 
unless it be something entirely beyond your ability, you 
will most certainly succeed. 

But the most important key I have not yet mentioned. 
It is the key to eternal tife. We are almost sure to lose 
sight of its value, because we are thinking about the 
things of this world, as to what will profit or help us 
now, or satisfy our wants. These things are apt to claim 
too large a share of our attention and absorb our inter- 
est. It should not be so. We are booked for another 
world. This world will soon pass away. This is a 
changeable world. In that w^orld nothing will change. 
We must leave here soon and go to the w^orld of spirits, 
^hen there, we can not come back. 



188 SUPPLEMENT. 

It may be that we are not prepared for the other 
world, since there we shall have to give an account to 
God our Creator. He will demand of us how we have 
spent this life, and all we have done. If we have not 
eternal life we shall then be condemned and lost, by rea- 
son of our sins. The life that we now have is mortal ; 
it will very soon come to an end. The soul, it is true, 
will exist forever, but it may be in remorse, in despair, in 
flames of torture. If we possess eternal life we shall have 
joy, we shall have peace. Our sins shall be forgiven, 
and death will have no sting, nor the grave any victory. 
It will be only a sleep from which we shall awake in the 
resurrection morning as from a night's rest. 

Only God can give us eternal life. We can not ob- 
tain it by any good deed or works. He bestowes it 
freely, without any money or any work. But he does 
not give it to all. Many will never have it, because they 
will not receive it. The key to this gift of God is faith 
in Jesus Christ, His son. If we truly believe in Christ 
as our Savior, Lord and Master, then will we serve Him, 
obeying His commands in this life, and at death we shall 
enter by God^s grace into the free enjoyment of that 
eternal life which He gives and which will never end. 



A SONG TO THE COTTON PLANT. 

A song to the cotton plant, 
That grows in my native South, 

The fine, prolific plant. 
Enriching many a house. 

Sing to the cotton plant ! 

Modest, of form so rare ; 
Type of its country's youth. 

Gentle, true and fair. 

Near the sun thou bloom'st, 

In soft and radiant air— 
Thy people are called generous — 
God knows my heart is there. 

At first, a tiny herb, 

Lifting up the soil 
So timid, thou fear'dst 

The frost thy life might spoil. 

The weeds essayed to choke 
Thy form from out the drill ; 

The farmer helped thy growth, 
The grass and weeds to kill. 

The lice and rust have vied 

Thy tender stem to slay. 
But showers fell, sun smiled. 

Thou mock'dst their strife away. 

A lovely bush thou stand'st 
With blooms that crimson red. 

Thy limbs with bolls thou hang'st, 
And leaves so neatly spread. 



189 



190 SUPPLEMENT. 

Sure thou art a favorite, 
The people love thee so. 

They oft themselves impoverish 
A plenteous crop to grow. 

The factories claim thy staple, 
The oil mill craves thy seed ; 
* Thy fibrous wood makes paper — 
The world's most useful weed. 

Like thee I've had a struggle, 
Combatting illest foes. 

But still I should not grumble. 
Perchance I reach the goal. 

Thrust from the world's cold breast, 
Tired of pastures drear ; 

With thee I '11 find sweet rest, 
In thee^ there 's friendship dear. 

And when a blighted stalk, 

Life's purpose realized. 
Like thee in death I '11 fall, 
Like thee be utilized. 

FINIS. 




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